


You Talk Too Much

by MsMiaMimi (Mc_Mimi)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, But Oswald Has An Army, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Ed is So Smart, Ed's Id is an evil fuck, Evil Didi Voices, Fish ain't dead 'cause she said so, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Ivy is not to be fucked with, M/M, Mama knows best, Mental Health Issues, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind the Tags, Some Much Needed Happy, lots and lots of hurt feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 14:18:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 61,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10833003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mc_Mimi/pseuds/MsMiaMimi
Summary: Edward is reunited with a living, breathing Penguin.  And despite the head injuries and beating, he finds he really, really missed his old friend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-1-18. No, it's not a joke.

Ed pats himself down after falling from his pedestal.

Literally.  He lays on the ground, his head aching and limbs sore, and watches the scene above him.  Jim Gordon calls out to him from above on the broken stage.  Harvey shouts orders and the other badge-wearing imbeciles stomp around, trying to apprehend his men, save the choking audience, put out a fire, and rescue the Wayne brat and Foxy from a sealed glass orb with little oxygen left.

He sighs and sits up slowly.  Inspects a bullet wound to his shoulder and sighs again.  He really liked this suit.  It was beautiful.  The jacket was one of the last things sized and measured by Oswald personally.  He had his father’s gift for tailoring.  And a unique way of seeing the world, grabbing any and every opportunity to pull himself out mediocrity… and oh, how Ed missed him.

But there’s no time for that now, he thinks.  He has to get out from under the condemned theater.  Quickly before his plan B…

“THAT DAMN LUNATIC!” screams Harvey.

Ed’s lips curl with a smile he just can’t hold back.  He’s tempted to stand around and listen, but he rather not die by own his cunning plan.  He grabs his hat and cane then runs for the exit.  Only to find a ghost smiling at him in the dark.

Ed stares and stares before slapping himself.

“Hello, Ed.  My haven’t we made a mess of things.”

“Don’t start with me,” says Edward.  He pats his pockets down, sure he didn’t slip up and take anything.  Sometimes the _other_ _him_ does _things_.  And he wouldn’t put it past his other self to drug him and coax this hallucination back into reality.  “I haven’t time for this.”  He pats himself again before giving up.  He starts to walk past the shadow but finds it solid.  A solid hand reaches up and pushes him in the middle of the chest. Ed can feel its’ breath on his face, and smell his cologne…

What is either a very convincing dream or a very real and alive Oswald, glares up at him. 

Ed's heart breaks and comes backs together.  He starts to remove his gloves, overcome with a sudden compulsion to touch this phantom with his bare hands.  “You're real?”

Oswald narrows his eyes, “I’m no ghost, Ed.  Ghosts aren’t real.  Remember!”  He slaps Ed hard across the face, proving himself to be corporal _and_ angry.  “You have a lot to answer for, my friend.  I loved you, and you still dumped me in that stinking river!”  He yanks Ed’s cane away and hits him hard on the side.  Ed is far too shocked to do anything.

The noise above them is getting louder, the smell of smoke wafting down and people screaming.  Running.  Their stomping feet sounds like claps of thunder on the floors above.  But it doesn’t matter because this is real, thinks Ed.  Oswald is real.  Alive and breathing. Angry.  Almost beautiful…

Edward stands up straight, covers his mouth with his hand while he sobs.  “It’s you!”

Oswald stares at him strangely, “Of course it’s, me.  How many other friends have you tried to kill lately?”

Ed shrugs and coughs up a manic laugh.  There was a time he thought Jim and Leslie were his friends.  And with any luck, they’re upstairs burning in acid.

Oswald is still the most impatient man he’s ever met.  He takes Ed’s silence for a ‘no’ and hits him again with the cane.  Out of the shadows appears two large men and a tall red-headed woman.  Of course, the living Oswald is just as dramatic as the imaginary one.  Ed rolls his eyes, “Can’t we do this without an audience?” 

Oswald frowns down at him, raising the cane over his head, “No!”

It’s the last thing Ed sees before he blacks out.

* * *

 

Ed wakes up to the smell of rosemary.

And jasmine.

Actually… he smells a lot of things.  He opens his eyes to a room full of green.  Plants hanging everywhere and the tall woman from before humming while she waters one. 

He’s tied down to an old bed, but he thinks his head’s been wrapped.  Ed wonders if he didn’t hallucinate after all.  Perhaps this woman knocked him on the head.  Perhaps the fall was worse than he thought.

Perhaps there is no Oswald.

The thought makes his insides turn cold, imagining Oswald as some decaying mass at the bottom of the river.  Unmoving.  Rotting away while Ed alone carries his memory with any fondness.

“I told you,” says a very distinct, but nasal voice from the doorway.  After a sneeze and a blown nose… Ed lights up, smiling.  He looks up, relieved to see Oswald, wrapped in a new silk suit.  He’s all shiny and clean of ghostly barnacles.  Oswald gapes at the room, “Enough of that irksome weed, it makes me sick!”

The woman rolls her eyes and keeps watering.  She moves from plant to plant with a kind of carelessness.  She’s sighs and pouts like a child, “Chrysanthemum is good for the sick and twisted.  Eases anxiety and stuff.  I’ll make you some tea, Ozzy.”

Oswald sneezes again and this time he thwacks out a handkerchief and violently blows his nose.

Oh god, thinks Ed.  How he missed him.

“I’m allergic to that funky yellow weed!  Please remove it!  Now!”  He stomps his foot, commanding.  He looks frustrated and if it were anyone else, they would worry about the blood about to be spilled.

But the girl just shrugs and rolls her eyes again, “Whatevers.”  She gestures at Ed, “I’ll leave you and your boyfriend alone.  Just don’t come crying to me when he dumps you again.”  She takes the pot with the offending flowers and exits the room, bumping Oswald as she walks by.

Ed feels stunned.  How is any of this happening?

Before he can voice his question, Oswald marches forward and sits on the bed.  He grins maniacally, “I’ve thought long and hard about just what I’m going to do with you.  Where should I start?  I almost can’t wait.  But that’s quite the knock on the noggin’ you got there,” he reaches out and knocks the side of Ed’s head.  The pain is incredible and Edward winces.  Oswald just smiles wider, “And I want you in tip-top shape.  There’s a lot to do, and I need you to last a little while.” He’s trying to menace Ed with a sinister smirk, but Ed sees through it.  The Oswald he knows would be gleeful to rid himself of an enemy.  But Oswald’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. This little act isn’t fun for him.  Ed knows.  He’s been there.

“I’m sorry.”  He says simply, “Not for shooting you.  Not for setting you up.  Not for digging up your father…”

“This is not how apologies work, Ed.   You should try begging for your life, but then I’d only lose all respect for you.”  He sighs, “I was so disappointed to hear what you did to everything we worked for, just handing it over to psycho Barbie.  What on earth were you thinking?”

Ed tries to blink away tears, his voice comes out hoarse.  He feels like he’s choking on the truth.  “I missed you.”

Oswald’s face goes stony, he pulls away and climbs off the bed.  Turns his back to Ed.  “Too little, too late, my friend.”

Ed watches him, leave.  He doesn’t resist or test his strength against the bonds. 

He closes his eyes and sleeps.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-7-18. I'm going through this slowly

“How on earth can you sleep like that?  My neck hurts just looking at you.”

Edward opens his eyes and sees the same young woman from before.   Her face is scrunched up and her head is tilted to the side, letting her red hair fall over her shoulder while she balances on one foot.

Ed frowns up at her, finally asking.  “How old are you?”

She freezes before smiling slowly, hopping from one foot to the other and skipping out the room.

“Odd,” says Ed.  He not sure that _wasn’t_ an answer.  He tries to sit up and finds his neck does indeed hurt.  He was upright in the bed, and his head had fallen over the iron header.  Ed rises and notes three things.  At some point he was freed, at some point, he was moved, and at some point, someone redressed his wound.

He looks down at himself and notes something else.  Someone redressed the rest of him, and by the smell of it, cleaned him as well.

The glass doors make it hard for someone to sneak in from the front, but Oswald is hardly trying to surprise.  He smiles from ear to ear while lurching forward with a jug in his hand.  He opens the door with a little difficulty before coming to the bedside.  “And how are we feeling this morning?”

Ed narrows his eyes, and for the sake of disruption asks, “Did you feel me up while I slept?”

Oswald blushes and stammers, “That’s!  That’s ludicrous!  Absolutely and completely, you… you’re messing with me.”   He rolls his eyes.  “No.  I haven’t been back in here since we spoke.  I wouldn’t put it past one of my associates though.”

“That cute red-head?”  Smiles Ed.

“Ew,” Oswald sneers and shoves the jug into Ed’s chest.  “Don’t be disgusting.  She’s a child for god’s sake.”

Ed doesn’t wonder at it, some people mature faster than others.  And some people seem to age slowly.  In the right light, it’s easy to mistake Oswald for a ten-year-old.  A bloodthirsty, unstable, homicidal, ten-year-old.  “Why am I still alive?  Whatever grand ending you’ve come up, whatever elaborate stunt you’re planning to pull, don’t you think it a little risky to leave me untied and healing?”

Oswald arches a brow and leans closer.  He raises a finger and gently pokes Ed in the center of the wound.  It aches like fire burning on his skull and Ed raises one hand to hide his face.  The other almost spilling his water.  Oswald clicks his tongue, “Well healing, is relatively speaking.  Are you ready to get up and do something science-y and clever?  Maybe.  But I bet that bump on your skull isn’t getting any better.”  He stands up straight and walks over to dresser holding flowers and a stack of yellow folders.  “I think ‘The Riddler’ needs a break.  Before he falls over from mere exhaustion.  What kind of end would that make?”

Ed runs every scenario he can think of through his head.  He comes down to three possibilities.  One, Oswald is waiting for someone else to pull the trigger.  Either because he still harbors feelings for Ed, or he’s been paid off.  Two, Oswald is toying with him, again because he still harbors feelings for Ed, but he’s hoping Ed will apologize first or something.  Three is a problem.  Three is Oswald is telling the truth.  There’s a shark tank or circle of fire, or electric chair rigged up with his name on it, and Oswald no longer harbors _any_ feelings for him.  Except for rage.

Oswald clears his throat, “I know what it’s like, being kicked down to your lowest point and having to climb back up.  I’m hoping you overcome it, my friend.  Surprise me even.”  He turns to Ed with a smile, “Though your name is completely ridiculous, I’m glad you’ve embraced your madness.  But you mustn’t succumb to it.  You understand?  You can’t let your baser instincts instruct your every move.  That’s what brought us to this point.  I failed to take the higher road, and took the life of your little girlfriend.”  He drops the folders on the bed.  “Your strange, doppelganger girlfriend.  Who appeared out of nowhere, from nowhere.”  He leaves the room, his words stirring doubts, regrets, and curiosity.

Ed leans over and puts the water on the floor.  He opens the first folder.

“Indian Hill.”

 

* * *

 

 

An hour of reading and rereading, dissecting probabilities, motives, and trying to make sense of facts and fictions has Edward cracking at the seams.

New fact, he notes, Oswald has somehow acquired Ed’s files from Indian Hill.  Possible fiction, an insert with records from Kristen’s autopsy.  A signed form filed by Mrs. Peabody, requesting materials from Wayne Enterprise.  Including the late Kristen’s belongings.

A photo of a blonde woman, in a hospital gown.  All you can see is her spine, her buttocks, her hair.  Her figure is slumped over while Dr. Strange removes wraps from her eyes.

Edward puts the files down and hazards taking a step away from the bed.  Standing throws him off balance, his stomach lurching as his head pounds.  He knocks over the pitcher but barely registers it as he stands in cold water, soaking the thick wool socks on his feet.

He ends up pacing the room, avoiding the bed.  Avoiding the pictures.

He argues with himself and his _other_ self.  The room is full of voices, shouting, and crying.

“Whoa,” says the girl with a straight face.  “You’ve really upped your crazy talk.”

Ed rubs his temples and tries to calm down, “Where is he?”

The girl shrugs, “Eating dinner.  He said you can come if you want.  I wouldn’t.  It’s mostly fish.”  She makes a face before walking away.

Ed shakes his head as if he can physically will himself back together.  He’s very conscious of what awaits him outside the door.  The Penguin invited him to dinner.

It would be rude not to answer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-7-18

Ed follows the strange girl through the halls of the old house.  It’s hot and humid and green everywhere.  She leads him to a dining room covered in flowers and ivy.  Ed curls his toes and looks down, “There’s dirt on the floor.”

The girl grins and stamps her feet, “For the grass seeds.”  She smiles like it’s a completely sane answer and walks out.

Ed startles when another young woman dressed in black comes out pushing a cart.  She's all smiles despite having a face that’s covered in scars.  Ed squints when he recognizes the infamous girl who survived fire and Indian Hill, “Bridgit Pike?”

The girl keeps grinning, kicking the cart forward with her foot.  “I think the turkey’s a little burnt.”

There’s a loud bark of laughter from the other room and Oswald shuffles into the dining room pushing his own cart.  “I told you!”  He’s wearing an apron covered in food and the odd scorch mark.  The tips of hair at the top of his head looks a little singed. 

Ed stares on as the girl plates herself some food from Oswald’s cart, “You win that bet, Ozman.  Have a good night.  Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”  She winks at Ed as she walks past.  Leaving Ed and Oswald in the over-green dining room and what appears to be way too much food.  “Expecting guests?”

Oswald takes off his apron and roughly pushes the carts to the table, “Yes of course.  I have a whole army to feed.  And you should have seen the mess they made of my house before I bought this place as a thank you for Ivy.”  He grins like anything he says make sense, “Care to join me for a taste test?”  He uncovers the main dish on the girl’s cart.  He picks at a blackened log still smoking on the plate.  “Yuck.  I’ll leave that for Croc.  Come, Ed, try my pasta instead.”  He puts his stuff up on the table and lays out two plates.  “I made heaps of it.  When in doubt, make spaghetti.  I learned that from working in an Italian restaurant…”

“What is this,” says Ed.  “What army?  Why are you huddling in this dank, wet, overgrown treehouse with a bunch of freaky kids?”  He spreads his arms, his voice breaking a little with the voices in his head screaming, “What the hell is this!”

Oswald doesn’t answer him, “I made rolls too.  Nice and buttery.  Well almost buttery.  Ivy’s a vegan after all, and that entails curtailing me from using real butter in my butter knots.”  He grins and sits down at the head of the table.  “Don’t just stand there, Ed.  If I wanted to kill you now, I’d feed you Firefly’s turkey.”  He laughs at his own joke before taking a bite of his pasta, “Mmmm, not as good as Mama’s goulash, but it’ll do.”

Ed closes his eyes and breathes in and out.  Counts to ten and open his eyes.  He sighs and sits to the right of Oswald, accepts the plate and takes a big bite of the spaghetti.  At least its most probably, not poisoned somehow, but he can’t speak for the plate or cutlery.  He wouldn’t put it past Oswald to lace it with something that reacts badly with ingredients in the pasta and sauce.  Actually, that sounds like a great idea, thinks Ed.  He pockets the thought away for later, should he survive thinking it while eating from his enemy.

“You know, I’ve thought long and hard about how to end you, Ed.”

“Don’t call me that.  Since you’ve died, I’ve become the Riddler.”  Ed says with all seriousness, lending every ounce of menace he can to his voice.

Oswald grins before noisily slurping up the noodle.  “The Riddler.  Oh.  A man who makes riddles. How ominous.”  He rolls his eyes, “Besides, _Ed_ , I’m not dead.  You failed, Ed.  And I’m going to continue to call you, whatever I want, Ed.  Edward.  Eddie.”

“Shut up!”  Oswald laughs in his face and it takes every bit concentration he has not to lash out and hurt him. Ed grinds his teeth and looks away from Oswald’s face.  He looks soft and pale.  A little color in his cheeks where he’s warm or probably drunk.  Ed keeps his eyes down and tries not to examine how seeing Oswald delight in another’s humiliation, his own in fact, still makes his heart beat twice as fast.  Perhaps the Penguin intends to torture him with this, old familiarity and nearness.  Ed’s mind is split between wanting to stab Oswald in the neck with his fork and reaching over to fix his errant hair.

He must have been quiet for too long because he finds Oswald staring at him.  He puts his fork down and  pushes away his plate, “Don’t you want to know what I have planned?”

“Of course, I want to know.  How does one avenge unreturned affections?  A love letter laced with cyanide?  Or do you want to go out like Romeo and Juliet?  Desdemona?  Ophelia?”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic, Ed!  This is not about _love_ , my friend.  This is about you shooting me.  I had long since accepted that my feelings may never be returned, but you took what was left of that affection and you _shot_ me.  Do you really think you’re getting some dramatic lover’s farewell?  Something easy like poison?  Something gentle like drowning?”

Ed tilts his head, “…then you need to stop being so slow, Ossie.  Dragging it out, whatever it is.  Unless of course, you’ve come up with nothing.”  Ed can’t resist poking the bear.  Or the Penguin, as it were.  “Ah!  That’s it, isn’t it?  You’ve come up with either nothing or something so mediocre, you’re too embarrassed to kill me with it…” Ed gasps and covers his heart.  “Oh!  Poor Ozzy-kins!”

“Pfft,” Oswald pushes Ed’s plate away and snatches the fork out his hand.  “You wish.”  He gets up and looms over Ed, “It’s time for bed, my friend.  We have a long day tomorrow and I don’t want you all tuckered out, Eddie.”  He pats Ed on the shoulder and starts to leave the table.

And with that something in Ed just snaps.  He’s up and out of the seat with his hands around Oswald’s neck.  It takes little effort to keep him pinned and squirming.  “Say my name.”

Oswald gurgles while ineffectively slapping at his hands.

It’s not the answer he wanted so Ed shakes him.  Which just makes things worse.  Oswald growling and struggling in his arm.  Pressing closer in his bid to escape.  Hands flying from the fingers around his throat to Ed’s neck, then beating his shoulders back.  Ed leans in until they're chest to chest and squeezes harder.  Ed holds fast and shakes him again.  “Be still.”

“No!”  Oswald only redoubles his efforts but stops suddenly with a startled look on his face.  The shock and stillness turn to mirth, as Oswald smiles.  Grins.  Flat out laughs in Edward's face.  Edward loosens his grip enough to let him squeak out, “Oh, Ed.”

Ed shakes him again, thrown off by it.  There was a thrill to having Oswald at his mercy.  And… oh no, thinks Ed.  Too much thrill.

“You’re just full of surprises!”

Ed drops him like the man was on fire, backs away and turns his back.  He resists covering his shame, “Don’t be a child, Oswald.  One can’t always suppress the effects of adrenaline on the body.”  Oswald’s laugh echoes around the room and Ed doesn’t have to turn around to imagine him, red in the face and doubled over.  Victorious.  Again.

“Oh, Edward.  Edward, Edward, Edward,” Oswald thumping gaits give him away before a hard slap on Ed’s back.  “I can’t believe it.  And if I can’t believe it, how can you?  Are you coming up with all the ways I snuck something in the spaghetti?”  He circles around and Ed just stands there while he’s quietly appraised.  Oswald nods his head and pats Ed on the shoulder.  “Well, I can’t exactly make fun of that!  I mean who would?  It’s kind of really impressive, the impression you make on loose clothes.”

Ed takes a step back, desperate to flee the room and hide himself like a child.  “Shut up!”

“No, Ed, don’t be like that.  Maybe we should have a little talk.  See sometimes the male body…”

“Shut up!”  Ed knocks himself in the head twice while he tries to recover himself.  How could let this happen?  He’s vulnerable without his armor.  No green suit.  No hat.  No dynamite.  How stupid and weak!  He asks the Riddler for help in weathering this and turning it back on Oswald.  He knocks his head again.

“Hey, cut that out.  You’ll knock something loose.  Your bandage is bleeding.  Ed!”

Ed stops and looks back where Oswald is staring at him with what looks like genuine concern.  “I’m sorry.”  He turns around slowly and smiles at his old friend.  “I’m so sorry.  I forgot what you were.  Butch told me about all those years, with Fish grooming you to be her umbrella boy.”

Oswald looks more terrified now than he did with his airway being crushed a moment ago.  “That’s not relevant to the conversation.  Ed.”

“Is it not?”  Ed takes a step forward and Oswald takes one back.  He’s visibly shaking now and Ed fills that thrill shooting through him again.  That spark he only gets when he feels he’s matched or bested his only equal.  And it’s too glorious to be ashamed of it.  He might as well put it to good use.  Usual preferences, be damned.

“Stop staring me at like that, you damn… you look like a fucking wolf!”  The break in his usual decorum speaks volumes.

Ed smiles, “My, what big eyes you have.”  He takes another step forward.  And another.  And another.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-7-18

“Ed, cut it out.”  Oswald backs up to the kitchen door.  He looks panicked and shaky.  Like a rabbit cornered by a predator.

“No.”  Ed finds himself shaking as well. So many ideas flit through his mind at rapid fire. Are they really alone?  Just how far is he willing to go to keep up this energy?  The air is thick with anticipation and thrumming like something explosive is about to happen.  “I almost forgot.  Your precious sensibilities.  Your touch barren childhood.  Fish couldn’t  _pay_ the girls to break you in.  Butch said you were never looked at twice by even the most perverted patrons.  What does that say, that even then, you were so undesirable?”

“Shut up!”

“Completely untouchable.  Unlovable.  It boils down to the real reason you never knew what love or intimacy was.  No one would touch you.  She slapped you around.  She tried to sell you.  Hell, they beat you, Oswald.  Just for being an ugly, skinny, pale, yellow-toothed, little urchin.  And look at you now.  Still cringing and cowering and taking it.  Taking anything, because pain is all you know.  You want it to hurt.”

“Shut up—what?”

“You heard me,” Ed takes off his glasses and throws them across the floor while he stalks closer.  He crowds Penguin by the door and smiles what he thinks of as his Sinister Smile, practiced for hours in the bathroom mirror.  “Still a virgin, aren’t you Penguin?”

Oswald scrabbles sideways to the door, “Enough, Ed!  Go back to your bed and sleep off whatever crazy crawled up in that damn greasy head!  Hel-“

Before he can cry out Ed rushes forward, pinning him to the wall and covering Oswald’s mouth with one hand.  “Where’s your dinner guests, Oswald?”

Oswald goes still but stops looking scared.  And that is very worrisome for Ed.  Oswald clears his throat until Ed slides his hand down, letting him speak while holding his throat again.  Oswald sighs and rolls his eyes, “I’ll admit, that was a little stirring.  Put for all your menace, Ed, you forgot one simple thing.  I have an army at my disposal.  Freaks and monsters, just as dangerous as I am, waiting for my command.”

Ed leans in, a little enchanted by the games they play.  Back and forth, back and forth.  “Dangerous?  Are your goons even on the way?  You’ll call them off, and go back,” he strokes his thumb under Oswald's chin and it pulls a soft moan from him.  “Mm,” hums Ed.  “To no one touching you?”

Oswald grins, “Oh, Ed.”  His voice is soft and deep and just hearing it makes Ed’s chest feel tight, despite the uncaring words, “You’re so damn full of yourself.  I don’t love you anymore.  I really don’t.  And I’m not some virgin waiting for you to fix me with your magical dick, Ed.”

Ed tightens his grip, “You still want me.”  He growls, knowing it’s the truth and Oswald is just lying to himself.  Putting up a front for the sake of appearances.  Maybe there’s no murder plot...  Maybe Oswald asked him up for the privacy just for this scenario to play out. He must still love Ed, he still trembles like he did when they first hugged.  His ears and cheeks are soft pink.  His eyes are round and pupils dilated.  If Ed had a better sense of smell, he’s sure he’d pick up on the musk of arousal between them.  In fact, he thinks he does. 

Ed bends his head and tucks his nose just under Oswald’s ear.  It’s a familiar scent, one he didn’t realize he knew and missed.  They lived so close for months.  Oswald’s presence was a comfort, early in the morning, just before bed. They kept each other company dressed and undressed.  Ed tugs the Penguin’s collar.  There’s a single freckle he remembers trying to brush away on more than one occasion.  It still doesn’t come off, of course.  Oswald gasps and lets his eyes fall shut, and Ed doesn’t hesitate to press his lips down on Oswald’s pulse.

“Okay, that is just very inappropriate.” 

Ed’s head snaps up to look at the one person in Gotham almost everyone fears.  “Zsasz.”  He turns to Oswald, “What the hell is he doing here?”

Oswald blinks like he's waking up from a dream.  He squirms until he’s free of Ed’s grasp and fixes his apron and shirt.  “He’s the guest of honor.  I missed him, terribly.”  Oswald turns to smile and wave at Victor Zsasz.  The assassin actually reciprocates, even blowing him a little kiss.

Oswald giggles like a schoolgirl before turning around, “That, Ed, is a man who knows real power.  I do so love that in a man.  I’m afraid our time is up.  You’re free to walk yourself back to bed.  Ivy will come fix your bandages.”  He turns his back on Ed to walk over to Zsasz.  “Don’t tell Mr. Fries, but you are my favorite Victor.”

“Oh, go on.”  Victor wraps an arm around Oswald and kisses the top of his head.  Let’s see what the kids are up to, dear.”

“Yes, dear.”

Ed can’t believe his eyes and standing there confused with his stomach twisting isn’t helping things.  Oswald digs the knife in a little deeper as they walk out, turning to stick his tongue out at Ed.

Ed, being the rational strategist he is, sticks out his own tongue.

 

* * *

  

Hours later, the house is full of sound.  Ed figured he could escape the house full of monsters, but at this point, his curiosity is peaked.  There are too many questions on the table.  He stormed back to the room and the photos of Isabelle.  He can’t wrap his head around which problem to address first.  Perhaps escaping and leaving the madhouse behind is the most sane thing to do.  But then Ed thinks of the little sound Oswald made, how he let himself be vulnerable with Ed after everything.  It’s not something to dismiss.  It’s yet another variable in an equation that hasn’t finished writing itself yet.  There are things to consider and dissect seriously, thinks Ed. What makes a man want what he doesn’t want?  No!  Ed claws his own eyes.  “Now is not the time for _that_ riddle.”

First thing, Thing A, for sake of order.  Revenge.  How to obtain it?  How to round out his sense of self.  Oswald being alive erases his history.  The making of the Riddler becomes invalid with every breath, every sigh, every moan—no.

Ed shakes his head, Thing B, will go nameless for the time being.  It’s not that he reciprocates Oswald’s feelings.  It’s not that all.  He merely missed him.  He knows the Penguin and that was an honor first, they were friends and that was an achievement.  Something he flaunted and bragged about.  Look at me, I’m the mayor’s best friend.  Look at me, I’m not a boring medical examiner for the GCPD, ignored and overlooked.  He mattered in Oswald’s inner circle. He mattered when Oswald looked at him.  Look at me, he thinks.  Look at me!

Ed stops himself and sits down the bed.  The photo of Isabella on the floor begs a question.

Thing C, why did Oswald leave this here?  What is it saying?  What could it possibly be saying?

Ed turns around to find Ivy staring at him with her mouth open, "Who said what now?”

“What?”

“What?”

Ed rolls his eyes, “Stop it. _What_ do you want?”

The girl shifts her weight and gives him a disinterested appraisal.  “What do you think, stupid.  You’re bleeding,” she points to her own head.  “Don’t you feel that?  And I need to check your shoulder.  You probably pulled something making out with Ozzy.”

“I did not make out with the Penguin.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “Sure.  That was an,” she put her fingers in quotes, “Enemies Forever Snuggle.”

Ed sits down and puts his head in his hands, wondering how he missed something so obvious.  He looks up at her sighs, “Cameras.”

“Duh,” says the girl still making finger quotes. “It’s a ‘Safe House.’ Dummy.”

Ed narrows his eyes, “If you do that again, I will break all of your fingers off and feed them to your plants.”

The girl flinches, “Liar.  You couldn’t do that.  They’d never eat me.”  She sticks her tongue out before stomping forward, “Head up.”

She seems simple and easy to manipulate, but she’s already very close to Oswald and his army of monsters.  There’s no telling what she’s capable of, so Edward submits to her inspection.  He doesn’t resist while she cleans him up and checks his wounds then pours something scalding on his shoulder and wraps his head too tight.  She backs away from her handiwork with a little, crooked smile and starts to walk off.

“The noise,” says Ed.  “Why are they so loud.”

Ivy shrugs, putting the least amount effort to explain anything, “Party.”

Ed closes his eyes and counts to three before opening them with a deep sigh.  He raises his hands and patiently asks, “ _Why_ is there a party.”

The girl grins at him and dips her head before twirling her hair in her fingers.  “For you, silly.  It’s your birthday party.”  She laughs at him and skips out of the room.

Ed sits there staring at empty space, “Thing D.  It’s not my birthday.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-12-18

There’s shouting and screaming and singing in the house.  Ed leaves the greenhouse and no one stops him.  He doesn’t bother trying to be stealthy in his borrowed and worn, too-small pajamas and soggy socks. Ivy doesn’t say anything when she notices him climbing the stairs.  She smirks and keeps watering a giant hanging fern.

Ed recognizes a handful of peers from Arkham.  Men and woman that were snatched away and apparently experimented on.  Like Ivy, they don’t pay him any mind.  He gets the odd glare or unimpressed look over.  Oswald said it was a party and the monsters mingle like they’re merely patrons in a trendy nightclub.

Ed wanders into what appears to be a salon.  The Firefly and Mr. Fries stand on either side of a large chair, where Oswald is holding court.  Ed lingers in the doorway, unseen behind a hulking man with rough, scaly skin.  The Firefly is wearing Ed’s bowler hat and Mr. Fries has an oversized bowtie duct taped to his suit.  Ed notices the other guests are wearing party hats or fancy clothes. Cheap fancy.  Faux fancy.  Clearly, style has a taken a backseat in Penguin’s syndicate guidelines.

A clearly drunk Oswald laughs, “And I told her it was a pity the coin landed on heads because that color was to die for.”

Everyone laughs and Ed has to resist drawing attention to himself and asking for someone to repeat the story. 

“But enough about that, let’s talk about victory.”  The crowd cheers and raise their glasses.  Oswald drinks his in one gulp and Fries is quick to refill his glass.  “Thank you, Victor.”  He looks up and bats his eyes, “Did I tell you, you’re my favorite Victor?

The man nods and Edward rolls his eyes.  Of course, that little display earlier with Zsasz was just a childish diversion.  He knew that.  It was so obvious, of course.

Oswald pulls his tie off, “I love a party as much as the next guy, but I’m afraid I’ve lost too many drinking games tonight.”  He reaches up and bops Bridgit on the nose.  “You, young lady shouldn’t even be drinking, much less putting me to shame.”

She laughs while filling her cup and downing in it one dramatic shot.

Oswald stares up at her with his mouth hanging open, “Well, fuck.”

The crowd cheers again and applaud the girl while Oswald gets up on wobbly legs to shake her hand.  He claps Fries on the back and says goodnight to several men and women while heading for the door.  Ed backs up to hide just behind a tall woman with strangely glowing hair.

Oswald walks the other way, heading down the stairs.

Ed passes the doorway and looks in.  Bridgit spots him and raises her glass, “The Birthday Boy!”

The crowd laughs and someone sits a paper hat on Ed’s head.  He shakes it off and ignores them.  If they’re not going to impede his movement, they’re not important.  He has the mind to keep count of individuals and make note of their obvious physical abnormalities, should he need to know later.  But his primary focus is Oswald.

He gets back downstairs and passes Ivy again, this time rubbing soil into gooey lengths of wallpaper.  She looks at him over her shoulder, “He’s going to bed.  Too much company, you know.  He’s all pooped.”

Ed shakes his head and starts to pass her by, but something tells him to arm himself before confronting Oswald again.  There are various gardening tools on the floor and sticking out of pots lining the wall.  He waits for Ivy to turn her back again and quickly snatches up a soil knife.  He walks quickly through the halls in the direction she pointed and again finds no resistance.  No one is guarding the boss against a man who tried to kill him.

It’s odd.  And it screams ‘trap’, but Oswald went to all the trouble to make sure he was healed.  Pieces all slot together without much effort.  Not only does Oswald still have feelings for him, he set up this whole scenario just to push them together.  It’s so simple and underwhelming, thinks Ed bitterly.  Oswald has always been overdriven by his emotions and he’s let his love push forward the kind of plan that would embarrass a middle schooler.  Ed stops in his tracks to think about all the options apparent.

He could continue stalking Oswald.  Find him and give in to this scheme.  He’s never been with a man before, but he can do it. Oswald is older than he looks and maybe hiding years of experience with this kind of thing.  Who knows.  Ed can’t put much stock into Butch’s words, but Oswald’s reaction was telling.  Perhaps he should go through it. Could he be the Penguin’s first and only?  If only to buy some time to turn the army and use Oswald to build his name.  Before killing him on a more appropriate stage.  He could kill a lover, he thinks bitterly.  He’s done it before.

But he could be very, very wrong.  This could all be a trap designed to make Ed look and feel even lower than he already does.  That would be brilliant.  And more like the creature Ed used to think Oswald was.  The thing Penguin is truly to his enemies.

But to Ed Nygma, he’s just an old friend with a one-sided crush.

Ed examines the soil knife, rubs a finger along the serrated edges and judges it adequate.  If he chooses to walk in there and catch Oswald off guard, he’ll have to put in real effort to do lasting harm but it’ll be satisfying.  Knowing he’s really dead, with all the blood and ichor to prove it.

Yes, thinks Ed.  He likes the sound of that. His mind is made up.  No matter what Oswald is planning, he’s dying tonight.  Monsters and plant ladies be damned.

Ed resumes his stalking and soon finds a master bedroom.  He steps in and closes the door, sizes up the room and the old furnishings.  Whoever lived here had poor taste in décor, no sense of art or balance.  The only interesting thing is the new sleek bed, covered with a dark green sheet set.  Ed runs his hand over the comforter and pouts.  It’d be a shame to stain it with blood.  He hears water running in the next room and smiles.  Oswald was always a sucker for baths.  Soaking his bad leg for hours at a turn, oblivious and exposed to everything around him.  Good, thinks Ed.  He won’t have to make a mess at all.  Everything will rinse away.

The door is open just enough for Ed to spy the sink and a large mounted mirror.  And in its reflection, is a large bathtub and Oswald laying back with his eyes closed and the water rising to the top. 

“Turn that off,” says Oswald.  “I had enough water.”

Ed frowns and stops with his hand on the knife.  He plasters himself along the wall and stares hard at the mirror, hoping it doesn’t cast his reflection in the bathroom.  He starts to call out but someone else speaks up first.

“Who cares about spilled water.  We’re not cleaning up.”

Ed starts to panic, recognizing Zsasz again.

“I wasn’t raised to let a mess go.  Someone will be cleaning up, know that.  And I’ll tell whoever it is, you can thank Victor Zsasz for this, he’s a regular slob.”

Victor appears, sitting on the edge of the tub near Oswald’s head.  He’s half-dressed and his scars are apparent across his chest and arms.  Ed stops breathing at the sight of Oswald reaching up to trace the scars on Victor’s forearm.  Victor laughs, “I remember that.  Ninety-three.  Good ol’ ninety-three.  He was a screamer.  Best sounds.”  He nods wistfully, “Good times.”

Oswald pulls away and Ed thinks it safe to breathe again.  But it gets worst.  Victor leans over, his hand disappears into the water.  “Damn, you are swollen and red.  It’s kinda wrong to be so thick.”

Ed's mouth drops with a gasp.  He bites down on his fist to keep from calling out, ‘Don’t you dare!’.  The impulse is strange and he barely controls it.

“I’ve seen enough doctors to know there’s nothing for it, Victor.  I just have to live with it.  I’ve grown used to the pain anyway.  It gets me out of bed in the morning.”  He looks up at Victor gives him a tight smile.  The kind that usually hides his discomfort.

If they were still friends, Ed wouldn’t hesitate to find ways to alleviate his pain.  Whether it was fetching the completely useless, but comforting Epsom salts or giving Oswald’s leg a thorough massage.  Victor’s hand is moving but Ed deduces it’s nothing carnal now.  Not with Oswald’s little frown and tipped head and panting… Actually, it could be very carnal. And that’s just not right.  How could Oswald let someone like Victor, a confessed sadist, lay a finger on him in the first place?

Storming the bathroom is out of the question, Victor would rip Ed’s arm off and kill him with that arm before he got one foot on the tile.

Ed settles for retreat and starts to back away when he hears Victor’s voice.  “Well, the stuff should be here by now.”  He pats Oswald head, “Have a good sleep, Ozzy.  Don’t let that pointy-chin twerp give you nightmares.”

Ed panics and looks around for somewhere to hide.  He settles mediocrely for the bed and scrambles to get under it. 

Victor, despite claiming he’ll leave, stays and talks.  And talks.  Mostly just calling Ed names.

“That’s enough,” says Oswald.  “I’m too tired for another lecture about Ed.  Good night, Victor… You know you’re my favorite Victor, right?”

The bathroom is quiet and Ed watches as a set of bare feet exit the room and pauses just in front the bed.  Ed holds his breath and goes completely still until Victor leaves the bedroom, closing the door with a soft thud. 

Ed doesn’t bother sighing in relief.  He holds his tool tight in his right hand and slides out from under the bed.

There’s adrenaline driving him now, from fear and anticipation and rage.  How dare Oswald dismiss him, come up here and let a creep like Victor Zsasz touch him?  He must be so desperate at this point, he’ll take anything, and if he’s taking anything… is he settling for Victor?  Planning Ed’s death in the morning and inviting the monsters to his bed? Is Victor coming back?  Is Oswald in the bath, getting ready to let that sadistic maniac have him spread out on the bed?  How dare he!?

“I can hear you snarling out there, Ed.  You may as well come in.”

Fuck, thinks Ed.  This is deeply unsatisfying.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-13-18

Oswald’s skin is pink and his ears are red.  He looks loose and comfortable, only the top of his head out of the water.  Ed smiles at him, thinking of the dish soap commercials, saving penguins and degreasing pots.  It doesn’t help that Oswald’s feathery hair is plastered to his head.  He looks _adorable_ , thinks Ed.  Ed shakes the thought off and raises the soil knife, “I’m not playing any more games, Penguin.  Tonight, you die.”

Oswald rolls his eyes, “Is that all you could come up with?”

“Shut up!”  Ed steps forward, his knife up.  “I’m serious.”

“No, you’re _cute_.”  He looks Ed up and down.  “Are your socks wet?  Never mind, I’m too tired to care.”  Oswald sinks under the water and Ed rushes forward, impatient with the dialogue and ready for something, anything to change between them. 

He pulls Oswald up by the hair and delights in seeing him flap around. “I’m tired too, Oswald.  Enough is enough.”  He lays the blade across Oswald’s neck and gets no reaction.  “What!  What does it take to make you just a little bit scared, hm?”

Oswald pushes his hand away, then shoves Ed’s chest.  He looks up at Ed with a soft gaze, “You left your glasses in the dining room. God, I forgot how _young_ you are.”  He sighs and shoves harder, “Move.”  He climbs out of the tub and wraps up in a familiar looking robe.

Ed gets lost in the sight, nostalgia giving him warm memories of a better time.  Those days with Oswald in the apartment, wrapped up in Ed’s clothes, eating his food, singing, and murdering.  It was good times.  Ed ignores a single tear that falls from his eye, “You’re supposed to be dead.  I was going to move on.  I was going to evolve because you’re _supposed_ to be dead.  But I missed you.”

Oswald doesn’t seem moved by Ed’s breakdown.  He pushes past Ed, grabs a towel and a bottle of lotion and goes to the bedroom. 

Ed follows him and wipes his eyes, “You don’t’ understand.  When I saw you under the theater, I thought it was the ghost I conjured.”  His feet make a soft, squelching sound and Ed is tempted to pull his own hair.  Instead, he balances on one foot, then the other tosses the wet socks on the floor.  “What the hell is going on here?  Why play games with me if you’re just going to kill me to tomorrow? I am at my wit's end, trying to understand any of this and every conclusion I draw, it comes to the same outcomes.  You either still want me, or your deliberately playing with me. Either way, I can’t…”  He drops the soil knife.  “I can’t seem to.”

Oswald sits on the bed and moves automatically, not minding Ed’s presences while his robe is open.  They’ve seen enough each other to know every scar, freckle, and mole.  Ed scans his body and sees Oswald is the same as he remembers, lithe, pale, and seemingly fragile.  The odd scar mottled or indenting him.  A new one in his abdomen.  The nob of his broken knee still disjointed and foot turned out.  But for all his appearing vulnerable, Ed doesn’t doubt the smaller could find a way to kill him first.  In fact, he wonders if he’s known that all along, subconsciously breaking down instead of bolstering a fight.

Ed falls to his knees on the floor, different voices telling him he’s done the stupid thing.  He’s lost his chance to avenge Isabella.  He can’t kill Penguin, not his best friend.  He’s afraid of Victor Zsasz, he’s afraid of what’s left of the old Gotham, and only Penguin could teach him.

“Ed!”

Ed looks up, blinking back tears again, “I missed you. And I can’t stand it.  The noise of you just being here…”  He starts to cover his ears but Penguin shushes him. 

He climbs down from the bed and takes Ed’s hands, “Edward.  Look at me.  Just me, okay?”

Ed nods, staring forward into Oswald’s eyes.

“I’m not dead.  You didn’t kill me.  And this, all of this…”  He waves around the room, “Is mine.  You didn’t take anything away from me.  Squatting in my house and ruining perfect paintings, aside.  Do you know what you need, Ed?  Focus.  Stay in the here and now.  With me.  Can you do that, Ed?”

Ed nods, “I’m sorry.  I don’t…”  He gives his head a little shake, “I’m sorry.”

“So you’ve said before.”  Oswald pulls away and climbs back on the bed.  “Hand me my nightshirt.  It’s the only thing in that dresser over there.  I didn’t bring much here. This house is safe, but it’s seriously creepy.  Ivy has a knack for making strange things, and I feel watched by all those damn flowers.”  He cringes and sits back while Ed gets the shirt.  “Thank you, my friend.”

“Are we still friends, Oswald?”  Ed sits on the bed, holding the bundle close to his chest. He watches as Oswald lets the robe fall off his shoulders and dries his hair.  Ed was told to focus and finds himself staring at the faint mark he left on Oswald’s neck.  Heat pools in his belly and all he wants is to lean over…

Oswald snatches the shirt like a mean child, and fits it over his head, “Of course we’re still friends, Ed.  I just happen to hate you right now.  It has no bearing on what we are to each other.  It just means that we have made things even.  You tried to kill me, so…”  He shrugs, “If you survive tomorrow, I guess we’ll be square.”

Ed frowns, “Really?  That’s your plan?  To run me through a gauntlet of monsters?”  Ed stands up, “Is that all?”

“No,” says Oswald laughing.  “You’re so far off base.  But I’ll excuse it.  Head injury and all.  Why don’t you go get some rest, while you can Ed?  Get your glasses back.  We’ll speak in the morning.  He climbs up and tucks himself in, not the least bit worried about Ed’s presence.

And that confounds Ed.  He is annoyed, angered, and embarrassed all at the same time.  Why is it no one here is taking him seriously?  He’s the Riddler, for god's sake!

“Go to bed, Ed.”

“No!”  Ed growls and leans over to grab Oswald by the shirt collar.  He shakes him, “You’re all just making fun of me.  You think I’m a joke.  You think I’m easy.  You think I’m going to fall for all this, this…”  He shakes Oswald hard enough to get his attention.  Hands try and push him back but Ed climbs up on the bed.  He yanks the sheets back and straddles Oswald’s lap.  He shakes him again before wrapping his fingers around his neck, “I’m not a child!  You can’t play me, Oswald.  I know you better than anyone!  Not only do you still want me, you want this!”  He leans down and kisses Oswald and its easy take out all his frustration with a bite to Oswald’s bottom, easy to pour out all his regret, pressing his lips to Oswald’s.  He's relieved when Oswald moves with him.  Parting his legs and letting him press closer.  Even with the clothes, it feels good.  But it could feel better.  Oswald pants and kisses him back while Ed’s hands run up his naked thighs.  Ed doesn’t have to look down to confirm the hardness his hands brush against. He doesn’t think as he frees his own cock and presses them together.  Oswald shutters beneath him and Ed smiles.

Oswald pushes back on his shoulder and Ed gives him space, long enough for him to speak.  “I didn’t do this to lead you in here, Ed.  How you jumped so very far to that conclusion, is honestly a little beyond me.”  He keens as Ed strokes them both.  “Ah!  You might have to consider the alternative here.  You followed me to my bed and jumped me.  I had no intention…”

“Shut up!”  Ed kisses him again, but this time roughly, fighting to keep close to Oswald while he pushes him away. “Stop talking!”

“Ed!”  Oswald thrashes until Ed has to back up or risk losing teeth.  Oswald keeps his hands wrapped up in Ed’s top, “Ed, just go back to your room.  And leave me the hell alone.  I can’t do this right now.  Not with you.”

Ed's eyes widen, “Yes with me, I’m different.  I’m special.  I mean something to you.  You know it!  Admit it!”  He launches forward and pins Oswald down and grinds their hips together.  Oswald contradicts his opposition, opening his legs moaning so loud his guests will hear it.  Ed keeps him down and kisses every inch he can reach while holding Oswald’s hands up by the side of his head.  He’s heavier but not by much.  Oswald goes still and gasps as their hips move together.  Ed kisses the mark he left before biting down hard again.

“Ah!”  Oswald gasps and struggles again, but doesn’t let go of Ed’s shoulder.  “Ed, please don’t.  We can’t.”

“We can,” growls Ed.  He ruts into the hollow of Oswald’s hips and provides a counterpoint for Oswald to move too.  The Penguin gives up on arguing, eyes closed and mouth gasping and his head thrown back.  Ed lets go of his hands and Oswald grips him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder while pulling his hair and kissing deeply.  Ed moves faster, imagining what else they can do.  How he’ll open Oswald up, and spread him just like this again to mark him on the inside.  The thought sends a tremble down his spine, his body spasms with the force of his orgasm, wetting Oswald across the chest.  Oswald keeps moving in the slippery mess between and comes hard, seizing under Ed and going very still when he’s spent.

Ed kisses his neck and smiles and smiles and smiles.

He knew It, he thinks.  He just knew.  He was not forgotten.  He’s still wanted.  He’s the only person who could do something this.  He just knew it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh Ed. So smart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-13-18

_Bathump… bathump… Bathump… bathump_

Ed spends the moments after their first time with his ear pressed against Oswald’s chest, listening to his heart, and savoring the quiet and calm in his own mind.  There’s no voice accusing him of going too far or berating him for weakness.  Just the peaceful rhythm of Oswald’s heart, still beating, safe from the soil knife and Ed’s revenge.  Ed sighs at the sight of his own cum on Oswald’s other nipple and across his pectoral.  Ed licks his lips before making up his mind to clean it up, licking a stripe from the center of Oswald’s chest to the hard nub.  He takes it in his mouth and bites gently.  Oswald’s hand combs through his hair, but he’s otherwise still.  Ed lays his ear back to his chest and listens.

_Bathump, Bathump, Bathump…_

Ed smiles and turns his face to lick the tip of the other nub while bringing his hands up to rub Oswald’s sides.  He’s so thin and bird-like and hiding so much strength in an odd sort of beauty Ed’s only ever appreciated as his apprentice.  He learned from Oswald that appearances can be managed for any role you want to take.  Tailored to be mayor or criminal or criminal mayor.  Whatever.  And under the suit is this.  He kisses Oswald just over the heart and fells him shake in response. It’s too soon for a second round, but there’s no rush, he thinks.  Oswald is soft and pliant under him.  He never imagined he’d like something like this, but here he is.  And it’s kind of glorious, having a renowned master criminal at his mercy, in a different way.

Oswald’s gasps and combs his fingers through Ed’s hair, holding him in place while Ed alternates between little bites and licks before latching on and sucking Oswald’s nipple.  “God, Ed.  What are you doing?  We can’t…”  He sighs when Ed pulls away and climbs up his body to bite his neck.  “Oh… well…”

Ed kisses and sucks another mark, just under Oswald’s chin, where no one would miss it under his suit.  He hums before nibbling Oswald’s chin and moves up to his lips.  Kissing him gently before prodding him with his tongue.  When Oswald doesn’t open he sighs, “Let us have this.  And I promise, I’ll… I don’t know.  I don’t know.  I’d promise anything at this point.”

Oswald laughs and kisses him back.  He pulls away and holds Ed’s face in his hands, “Well, I’m not going to pretend that wasn’t… a unique experience.  But there’s just too much work to do, and you, my friend, are a living reminder of what weakness almost cost me.  I’m not letting you one-up me again, Edward.  I’m not the weakling who believes in ghosts anymore.  You are.  Can you give me one good reason not to have you drawn and quartered in the morning?”

Ed frowns down at him, puzzled by this talk of power and dynamics again when they should be square.  It should be obvious.  He shrugs, “Don’t be ludicrous, Oswald.  You love me.  That’s all that matters.  You love me and I’m here.  That’s the end of it.”

Oswald gives him the same unimpressed look he’s had all day and night.  “That’s the end of it?”

It’s disconcerting, and Ed doesn’t understand.  He hates the parallels and the noise starts up in his head, reminders of how Kristen turned on him.  He resists putting his hands around Oswald’s neck and squeezing until the man sees sense.  “Yes,” he answers.  “This is what you wanted.  I denied you, but I’m here now.  You haven’t any reason…”

“You shot me, Ed!”  Oswald takes Ed’s hands and leads them down to his middle.  “You dug up my father, you betrayed me, and you hurt me.  In the worst way.  And you really think a little hanky-panky when your neck’s on the guillotine block is going to make it square?  This isn’t real, and you’re delusional!”

Ed’s fingers shake where they’re pressed into the scar.  “You have a fair point.”  He stares down between them, “But there’s no sense in throwing a tantrum over this.  God, Oswald!  I’m sorry!”

Oswald shoves him, “Not sorry enough, Ed!”  Oswald pushes Ed hard enough to throw him off the bed. 

Ed lands with a thud and eyes the soil knife he dropped.  Well, he thinks.  The other option is more apparent.  He grabs it and sits up and turns on Oswald on the bed, “I’m sorry to have to do this Oswald… fuck.”

Oswald sits in the middle of the bed, disheveled from head toe.  His nightshirt hanging completely of his shoulders and his body red and bruised, but despite looking ravaged he glares at Ed with a steady gaze and a snub-nosed revolver in his hands.  “Don’t move, Ed.”

“Okay,” Ed drops the knife.  “I didn’t mean that…”

“Of course, you didn’t. You’re so smart, Ed.  Fuck me and threaten me all in the same half hour.

Ed rolls his eyes, “Hour… at least an hour.”

Oswald narrows his eyes and shakes the gun, “Twenty minutes, if that!”

“Hey!”

Oswald and Ed turn to the see Victor Zsasz dressed in a robe and carrying a gift basket.  Ed is almost too confused to be scared.  He looks down at the assorted soaps, “What is that?”

Victor delicately puts the basket down on a little shelf and leans in the doorway, crosses his bare calves and grins at Oswald, “Soap and shit.  People wash with it.  Right boss?”

“Right,” says Oswald, still pointing the gun at Ed, “Could you do me a favor, friend, and see that Mr. Nygma makes it back to bed.  Handcuff him this time.  Since he can’t be trusted to keep his hands off me.”

Victor looks him up and down, “I see that.  You want me to bring you some, I don’t know, clean sheets?”

“Thank you, Victor.”

Ed stands there watching the exchange with a gaping mouth before exploding, “Are you kidding me!  I don’t accept this!  I’m not going anywhere and that… that hairless thug is not tying me back up.”

Oswald lets the gun drop over his trigger finger and holds it out.  Victor walks over and takes it with a hurt expression, “First of all, how dare you?  Insensitive much?”

“He’s really clueless,” says Oswald rolling his eyes.  He wipes his eyes before unshed tears can fall and settles back in the middle of the bed.  “I’m tired.  And drunk.  And I’m not doing this anymore.  Just get him out of here before I vomit or something.”

“Right-O, boss.”  He gestures with the gun to the door.  “You heard the man.  Vamoose.”

Ed’s mind is ringing with equal parts rage and embarrassment.  Which is usually a lethal combination.  He starts to walk past Victor with raised hands and at the last second, turns and attacks the man, knowing he’s Gotham’s most sought after assassin doesn’t even come into the equation.  What he knows is he feels hurt and Oswald and Victor are laughing at him.  Rejection is a sour motivator and after a brief tousle he ends up with his face in the floor and Victor’s foot on his head.

“What was that?”  Victor looks down at him with pity and back to Oswald.  “Seriously, is he on medication?  Do you want me to drop by a Walgreens or something?”

Ed can’t make out Oswald on the bed but he sees the door when it opens again, and has a decent view of Ivy’s legs.  She stands there shifting from foot to foot.  “God!  It smells like Pyrus Calleryana in here… oh gross.” 

Victor bends down and grabs Ed by the arm, then twists it and pushes him towards he girl.  “You’re right on time, Red.  I’m relegating my chores.  Tie this fool down before he hurts himself.”

“I’m going to get you for this Zsasz,” says Ed while he’s manhandled and pushed out the door.  “Your death will be slow and painful.”

Victor smirks at him, “Now I know you’re off your meds.  Want some of mine?”  He grins and turns to the gift basket and pulls out and tosses a bottle at Ed, “Red’s own recipe.  Great stuff.  Soothing.”  He winks at Ivy while she takes Ed by hand and pulls him away.  “Well, get you some rest, kiddo.  Big day tomorrow.  And ah, you know.  You’ve like nine hours to think of a way to kill me.  That’ll be fun, right?  Like having a hobby.”  He closes the door in Ed’s face. 

Ed resigns himself to walking back, hand in hand with the girl when he hears Oswald screams on the other side, “ _I don’t know_!  _It just happened!”_

Ed looks to Ivy, “Why is Zsasz is taking a bath in Penguin’s room?”

She shrugs, “It’s like whatever, they’re like… well, you get it.”  She shrugs, “I’m surprised it doesn’t always smell like that in there.”

Ed feels numb, and blinks out while letting Ivy take him all the way back to the greenhouse and the bed.  He drops the bottle of soap somewhere on the way.  She handcuffs him to the bed and fetches him a cup of tea, “For the anxiety.  You look really tight around the eyes.  That’s not good for your face and stuff.”  She even tucks him in before clearing the cup and turning the lights off.  “Sleep tight, Riddler.”

Ed doesn’t realize he’s crying until it’s too late.

* * *

Ed wakes up feeling hungry and thirsty.  He’s realizes it’s been hours since he had anything to really eat.  The half cup of tea that knocked him out was hardly hydrating.  His throat feels raspy and he looks around confused.  Did he just dream up last night or did he really have sex with Oswald?

His head aches and he’s hyperaware of his injuries.  His shoulder only hurts when he moves, and his nose is running.  He suspects he caught a cold while walking around all night in wet socks.  It’s not dignified but he wipes his face with his shoulder.  He realizes all too late that he’s not alone in the green house.  A shadowy presence in the corner comes out and gives him, not just an unimpressed look over, but she radiates a cool indifference that makes Ed feel five inches tall.

He clears his throat, “I thought you were dead, Ms. Mooney.”

“I get that a lot.”  She steps forward and stands by the side of the bed.  “I hear you went for a walk last night. And you walked the whole house, huh?  And straight into his bed.”  She sits beside him and fixes the collar of his top.  “I gotta say, you are kind of cute.  If you were one of mine, I’d rent you out to those jock types, you know.  The kind that get off on roughing up a little dork in their spare time.”

“Fish…”

“Ah-ah,” she raises a finger in his face.  “My friends call me Fish.  You are not my friend.  You’re a rotten child.  And I’m not in the least bit impressed by your little shenanigans in your fancy green get up.  You call me Miss Mooney.”

“Fine.  Where…”  She narrows her eyes in warning and Ed corrects himself, “Ms. Mooney.  Where is Oswald?”

“My Penguin,” she smiles slaps Ed on the chest.  “I couldn’t be more proud of my baby boy.  It wasn’t even ten years ago he’d wring his little hands over not growing a full beard or killing his first mark without a mess.  And now look at him. We’re going to do things the right way, and rule Gotham together.  And you, you little amateur, aren’t going to be around to muck shit up.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-13-18

Sometimes, late at night at the mansion Ed and Oswald would share a drink by the fire and talk about their pasts.  Ed told Oswald about his abusive father and the kids that used to bully him.  Oswald told him about growing up fatherless with a mother whose sense faded in time, and his need to take care of her.  His ambition led him to Fish Mooney’s backdoor and from there he worked his way up from errand boy and bartender to umbrella boy.  A pet and protégé that was mocked and looked down on.  But sometimes Oswald would get a look on his face while explaining how Fish kicked him down while holding his hand.  Broke him in, while caressing his face.  The duality of it made him resent her, worship her, and fear her all at once.

Ed can see a woman like that holding power over someone long after their presumed death, and here at this moment, she holds the door while a team of men walks in with a gurney.

“Time to go, Edward.”  She claps her hands and the men set to uncuffing him from the bed and putting him on the gurney.  She walks up to Ed with a smirk.  “You don’t need these where you’re going, but I just thought… why not.”  She reaches into her breast pocket and pulls out Ed’s glasses.  Fish unfolds them and carefully perches them on Ed’s face.  “There.  Now we can see things a little clearer.”

Ed stares and notices the worn lines under her eyes, “I see you could use some more concealer.”

She tosses her head back and stomps away, “I have you know I earned these scars.  I went into a deathtrap with nothing and came out with an army and a new eye.”  She points at the men, “Hell, I went in _dead_ , and came out a goddess.”  She gestures to herself with a curl of her hands.  “It’s what I do.  Mama’s not here to play with mortals.  And I’ve got things to do.  Oh, Doctor!”

“Coming,” says a voice Ed wishes he’d never had to hear again.  “Hellooo. How’s the head, Ed.”

Hugo Strange is a sight that makes Ed feel ill, but what’s worst is his recent revelations from Oswald and the young woman with dark hair, quickly following his heels.  Hugo instructs the men to strap him more securely and moves over to kiss Fish on the hand.  The young woman stands there with her arms behind her back.  Ed gasps, “Isabella?” 

She gives him a confused look, and without glasses, she’s the picture of Isabella and Kristen.  Ed feels like he’s fallen through a hole in time and space.  He looks on with wide eyes while she looks right through him like she’s never seen him before.  “Pardon?”

The doctor laughs, “I don’t know what you mean, Edward.  This is Ms. Terri Eckhart, my loyal assistant.”  He smiles with all his teeth, “She’s been with me for years.  Isn’t that right, Ms. Eckhart.”

The clearly a Kristen clone smiles, “That’s right doctor.  Seventeen years in fact.”

“Fish asked for my best in her little project and I had to have some of my best staff from abroad with Wayne Enterprises.  Ms. Eckhart here was always a star associate.”  He claps the woman on the shoulder and she blushes and covers her mouth. 

“Oh, Doctor don’t.”

“Yes, don’t,” says Fish rolling her eyes.  “Let’s get on with it.  Knock his punk ass out.”

“Why?” Says Hugo, in his long, drawn-out way.

“Yeah, why,” echoes Ed.  He stares up at ‘Terri’, thinking of the photos and what Oswald would know about this.  Was this his plan?  To drive Ed mad with a doppelganger?  “Why any of this?  Why are you here?!  Where are you taking me?!  Where’s Oswald?!”

Fish crosses her arms and sighs, “That’s why.”

Hugo hums, “I see your point.  I was hoping to question him about his recent behavior before treatment.  His untreated condition manifests in oh-so-surprising acts of violence and egomaniacal machinations.  Nevertheless.  Boys…”

Ed looks up at the men, hoping they’re not really going to hit him on the head again, “Wait, wait, wait…”

One man grabs him by the head and the other shoves a needle in his neck.

The last thing he sees before darkness is Oswald entering the room and shaking hands with… the Not Isabella.

* * *

Ed comes to with the now familiar sight of Ivy standing over him.  She’s passing a broadleaf back and forth over his face.  It’s a species he doesn’t recognize but it smells loud and wakes him right up.  She smiles down at him, “There you are.  It’s been hours.  You were _so_ boring.”

“Where am I?”  He’s shirtless and cold from the chill in the air.  Ed looks around, they’re in a sterile environment.  White walls and white tile and white sheets.  The lone door is unmarked and there are no windows.  Even Ivy is wearing a bulky lab coat and a badge that says she’s ‘Hermione Grainger, MD’.

Ivy shrugs and carelessly tosses the leaf on the bed, “I’m just glad I missed all the blood and stuff.  That kind of thing is so squicky.  But look at you.  It’s like, you’re brand new and shiny too.  See,” she pokes him in the head and Ed winces, but it doesn’t hurt like it should.  In fact, nothing really aches.  He looks down at his shoulder and there’s no bleeding bandage or bruising.  She nods, “Yeah, it’s so cool.”  She idly twirls a finger in her hair, “I wonder if they could do me.  But I’d miss being this tall.  I’m taller than Selina, and she hates that.  It’s awesome.”

“Stop prattling,” croaks Ed.  He clears his throat.  “Where’s Oswald?”

She frowns down at him, “God.  You’re so rude.”  She turns on her heel, tossing her hair back and walking out the door.

Ed struggles in the bonds holding him down, “IVY!”

She ignores him and leaves the white room.  It is silent but for the heart monitor beeping and strange hissing from a vent overhead.  He looks around, calculates his chances of escape.  If only he could free himself, he could take out whatever lock is on the door.  But the bonds are tight and giving him little leeway to work free.

Too much happened in too short a time.  His mind is still reeling from seeing the doppelganger and having Oswald under him and fighting Victor Zsasz and walking through a party of monsters. 

There’s no hope of rescue and there’s a long wait while for someone to return.  He starts to think he’s been forgotten when the door finally opens. 

“There we are, up already.”  The Isabella doppelganger smiles at him and approaches the bed with a bouncy step.  “I’m glad.  Dr. Strange was vague about what to do with you next.”  She shrugs as she checks his vitals clicks the monitor, upping the dosage of something in his IV.

“What did he tell you?”  Ed tries to catch her eye but she doesn’t look at him directly.  Just checks something off on her clipboard and skips back to the doorway.  “Please.  Tell me.  Isabella?”

She turns and gives him a sad look, “You called me that earlier.  I’m sorry, but I’m Terri.  I understand the woman called Isabella passed recently.  It must have been hard for you.”  She drawls with a slight accent like she’s from the south and Ed wonders how it could be possible.

“It was.  I burned my entire world down because of it.  You could understand how I find this uncanny.  You being an exact copy and all.”

She frowns, “Well.  It’s not all that strange given our business.  And a lot could have happened to the first project samples.  It’s been years after all.  Who knows how the company deployed them.”  She closes the door and leaves only more questions in her wake.

“What,” says Ed to the empty room. 

He’s trapped in the worst kind of puzzle and unable to defend himself… but there is the IV line.  He wonders if he could wiggle free enough to get it out.

“Stop squirming,” says Hugo over an intercom, “You might as well conserve your energy.”  A dramatic overhead projection shines on the white wall before him and Ed resists rolling his eyes.  He’s in Gotham after all.

Ed snaps, “You’ve gone to a lot of effort to patch me up first.”

Hugo sits at a desk with his fingers steepled under his chin.  “Fasss-cinating.  Are you still trying to solve the riddle, Ed?  What is at the end of every rainbow?”

Ed scowls, “A pot of gold.  Really, don’t try and test me…”

“Wrong.”  Hugo smiles and sits back, shaking his head.  “A ‘w’.  Sometimes the simpler answer is the solution.  I understand through Oswald you know all about that, but you still get trapped in convoluted scheming, don’t you Edward?  What do you think is the simplest outcome here, with all the evidence before you?  Don’t think hard, just let the answer come to that brilliant mind of yours.”

Ed closes his eyes, he sees the day or days repeat in picture clarity.  Every moment, every gesture, every word.  Every kiss.  He opens his eyes with a gasp, “You have cloning technology.  And today isn’t _my_ birthday.  A whole new me.”

Hugo gives him a slow clap, “That wasn’t very hard, was it?  And what do you think we do with the originals?”

Ed looks at the door.  The smell of Dr. Eckhart’s perfume is still in the air.  “I don’t know.  You hire them?”

Hugo slides his hands across the desk “Well... in certain cases, yes.  But mostly just as consultants.  But you’re a special case.  You’ve been branded for creative termination.  Can you guess what that means?”

Ed does rolls his eyes this time, “Does it matter how you kill me?”

Hugo gives him a lopsided grin, “It doesn’t matter to me.  But it matters to someone.”

The projection cuts out and Ed is left alone again with his revelations.

He wonders if the process has been started, or if he can even count on his own memories.  Perhaps he’s a copy?  Perhaps none of this is real.  Maybe that doppelganger is really Clayface and Oswald is making fun of him.  Whatever it is, he’ll have to figure it out later.  He feels slow and heavy again, darkness blacks out the white room.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-13-18

 

“Wait a minute, I know one.  There once was a man in Nantucket.”

Ed’s eyes feel like lead, he can’t see, and his body feels numb but he can hear fine.  Wherever he is, is filled with voices outside his usual circle of personalities.  People surround him and move about.

There’s a loud groaning from several voices and the first hushes them.  “Shut up!  Let me finish!”

“That’s not a riddle, nimrod, that’s a limerick.”

“Similac!”

“ _Semantics_ ,” corrects the other voice.  “Do you even speak English?”

“Shut up!  It’s my riddle, let me tell it!”

There’s more groaning, and Ed feels if he could, he would certainly join them.

“There once was a man in Nantucket.  Where did he sleep?”

There’s quiet from the others and Ed wishes he could set something on fire. 

“In Man Tuck Inn!  Get it?”

“That’s a pun, you idiot, and not even a good one!”

“My Ma told me that!  It’s hilarious and it makes you think.”

“I think your mother’s an idiot.”

There’s crashing and groans and thumping.  Good, thinks Ed.  Someone deserves to get their ass kicked for putting him through that.

“Enough!”  Ed inwardly sighs in relief.  He recognizes Bridgit’s voice and half hopes she’s there to set the room on fire.  “Get up from there, you two.  And you!  Why are you letting them tear the room down?  I left you in charge.”

A new, nasally voice speaks up, “Well, I thought the whole thing was entertaining.  You find your bitchy girlfriend yet?”

“That’s none of your business,” snaps Bridgit, “Clean up this mess and keep an eye on him.”

“Why?  He’s already a popsicle?  What the hell is a popsicle going to do?”

Ed imagines his heart is beating faster, but he can’t feel it.  He still feels numb, he can’t open his eyes or move his limbs.  He starts to really worry.

“Clear out,” says Ivy.  “I’ll watch him.”

“You,” says Bridgit.  “How are you gonna stop him if he goes yeti?”

“We’re like friends, Bridgit.  And friends don’t go yeti on each other, duh.  Clear out and take the Wonder Twins and Madam Pickle with you.  We’re moving him in a little bit.”

Bridgit clicks her tongue, “Fine, fine.  Up and out boys and girls.”

There’s movement and shifting and the sound of a chair scraping nearby.  Ed barely feels anything, but there’s a warmth on his forehead and breath in his ear.  “Sorry about this.  I’ve never had a boyfriend or anything, but I guess it got pretty bad with you and Ozzy, huh?  Well, don’t worry.  I’m going to take care of you for now on.  The other guy kind of gives me the creeps.  Like he smiles _way_ too hard.  They all do.  It is freakin’ spooky.”

Ed would cry for himself if he could.  If Victor Fries has frozen him somehow, and there’s now a clone running free, then he has to give it to Oswald.  He wouldn’t have thought to do something this dramatic.  But why preserve him?  And leave the plant kid to keep watch?

“So, Pengy says I get to help make the logo for the Iceberg Lounge,” she says in an upbeat voice.  Ed can imagine her twirling her hair.  “And I think, just an ice cube melting to bring attention to human mortality or something… but he’s all like, it should be about lasting.  You know.  Like you are.  You’re going to the be the centerpiece and everything… maybe something with a hat.  An ice cube, with a hat.  Hm…”

Ed wishes he could cover his ears or shout at her.  But at the moment, she’s all the company he has.  The others didn’t even pretend he could hear.  He wonders if his eyes are really closed or if they’re frozen open and the blackness is just a symptom of his freezing.

“Well, Gothamites.  Gothamites, Gotham Citizens…”

“Stop it!

Ed recognizes Aubrey and Oswald’s voices.  It’s a wonder his day could get any weirder.  But there it is.

“I’m practicing,” says Aubrey.  “Ew.  Is he supposed to be that color?  That looks unhealthy.  Healthcare is very important to Gothamites.”

Ivy groans beside him, “You brought Aubrey Two with you?  You know I can’t stand him.  He’s even sleazier than the other guy.”

“I know,” says Oswald like he regrets the decision.  “We’re on our way to a press conference and I can’t just leave him alone.  He’ll forget his lines or something.  How’s Ed?”

There’s a clunking, knocking sound.  Ed suspects it was his head.  “Still solid.  Are you sure Vick didn’t just kill him?”

“Positive.  It’s the formula that would have preserved his wife.  He made sure of it.”

“Aww, now you’ve preserved your wife, how sweet,” says Aubrey.

Oswald hisses, “Go wait in the hall.  Ivy.”

“Fine.”  She sighs, “Come on Aubrey Two.  Outside.”  Her heels clack on the floor and there’s some shuffling back to wherever the door is.  “They want to be alone.”  A door closes with a soft click.  And there’s the familiar shuffling sound as Oswald limps over and takes the seat vacated by Ivy.

“Well, I’m sorry it came to this.  I don’t suppose you can hear me,” and oh, thinks Ed.  How he wishes that were true.  Not hearing might be better. Not living like this might be better.  “…but I already miss you, my friend.  You were my first real friend, Ed.  And I wish I’d had the nerve to tell you how I felt earlier.  Maybe you wouldn’t have gone to that stupid liquor store.  And none of this would have come to pass.  I don’t suppose you had a proper introduction to Ms. Eckhart.  But according to her, she was Strange’s first subject for stability.  And there were multiple copies.  It’s just my luck that you became obsessed with the GCPD model and then the librarian.  Who knows.  I wonder if you’d just run through them all, believing your obsessive, possessive need to have things you even slightly desire in your control.  Even playing me like you did…”

“Pengy,” says Ivy.  “We gotta go.  The van’s here.”

“Fine.”  The chair scrapes again.  “Sleep well, Ed.  I hope you’re having good dreams.”

Ed wishes he could scream or cry or thrash.  Something.  Anything at this point. He’s trapped in a living nightmare.

* * *

 

Ed started keeping count of the days after he first woke up.  There’s no way to accurately measure time in his condition, but he stays awake for longer and longer periods.  He gathers after the first time that he’s been moved to a new permanent residence.  There’s construction constantly going on in the background.  Ivy talks to him regularly, as if he were a plant and he imagines being in a room covered in potted flowers, only spoken to when she’s watering them. 

He wakes up a total of ninety-one times, and over time the construction peters out and music fills the air.  Sometimes Oswald is nearby, drunkenly confessing his feelings or mocking Ed, or apologizing.  Ed suffers through meetings that he can’t comment on, the voice of Fish Mooney cooing over or judging Oswald’s efforts.  He learns that the real Aubrey James is rotting at the bottom of the river and the Aubrey Two is running Gotham under Oswald’s orders.

Ninety-one days at least, thinks Ed.  And everything has changed.  One day Ed has the misfortune of hearing two voices groaning, bare skin slapping nearby. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Ed is past wishing he could emote.  There’s no use wishing he could scream or cry at this point.  They finish and Ed listens while Oswald sits under him, “It’s not like I need it or something, but every once and awhile, it just gets too much.  I’m sorry we did that in here…” he sobs, “I’m sorry, Ed.”

* * *

Ed feels his awareness of the outside world fading and goes somewhere in his mind and imagination where there’s the illusion of the tangible.

He sits in his old apartment at the piano while Oswald sits in the bed, wrapped up in Ed’s bathrobe and covered in marks.  His hair is rumbled and he idly plays with a knife.  Ed sighs, “I’m not going to forgive you, but I’m not holding it against you either.”

“Good,” says Oswald.  He tosses the knife and it lands on the floor with a loud clink.  “I wish I could say the same.  Are you taking any requests?”

“Not at the moment.”  He grins and runs his fingers across the keys.  “I have a surprise for you, you know.”

Oswald climbs off the bed and comes to join him.  He hums, “Is this going to start with a riddle?  I love your riddles.”  He kisses Ed on the temple and snuggles close, wrapping an arm around his back.

Ed could think of riddle but he rather put it out there, “I feel warmer in here.  And out there,” he clinks a glass of ice cubes on top of the piano, “Out there, I feel…. Something.”

Oswald moves his hand.  “That’s interesting.  You should remember to wear a scarf when you go out.  We’re low on mustard and I can’t find any hair gel.  How could you not have any hair gel?”

Ed kisses Oswald on the top of his head, “Don’t worry.  I’ll set things right soon enough.”  His middle finger drums on the middle C key and he never quite plays a tune.  But he’s comfortable.  And warm.  And that’s all that matters.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you,  
> [@DoktorGirlfriend](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DoktorGirlfriend), for inspiring the take on the Isabella clone. Your headcannons are brilliant. ^_^ Cheers!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-13-18

There’s an annoying nearby tapping sound and Ed finally cracks free of his happy illusion.

“Anyone home?  No?  Well, that’s how it goes.  This thing is even creepier than the bearded psycho at the damn door.”

Ed inwardly cringes.  Great, he thinks.  How did Harvey get in… wherever they are?  Even with the sound distorted with whatever barrier is between them, he feels annoyed.

“You know Penguin, I’m sure there are all kinds of laws you’re breaking here.  That right there is some freaky shit.  And I’m thinking there’s some merit to this rumor about puppet people after all.”

Oswald’s laugh rings fake and defensive, “Really?  Is that the best you could come up with?  I have a very graceful art installation depicting _my_ boyfriend in _my_ office, and you think it’s proof of these idiotic claims?  Really, Harvey?  How much did you drink at the bar?”

“Not enough for this kind of conspiracy crap.  Where’s Fish?”

“There’s fish on the menu for Friday, chef’s special.”

“Don’t be obtuse!  Stop looking at me like that, I know what it means!  You short, skinny, little...”

“Harv,” says the voice of Jim Gordon.  “It doesn’t matter where Fish is.  What we need now is Hugo.”

“Ah, well,” sighs Oswald, “I’m in the free and clear, gents.   I wouldn’t have any dealings with Dr. Strange.  As you know, we never had an ideal doctor/patient relationship.  I’m sure he’s far from Gotham.  If I knew where he was, I’d have some choice words for him.”

“Yeah,” says Harvey, “Like threatening words?”

“Stop.  Please.  You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Harv, why don’t you go outside and let me deal with this.”

The room goes quiet but for some grumbling and a slamming door.

There’s tapping again and then Oswald sounds very close, “It broke my heart, having to give up public office but Ed was such a comfort to me.  He is my muse in every sense of the word.  I admit my little breakdown all those months ago, was a little traumatic for everyone involved.  And I’ve since apologized to the citizens and Mayor Aubrey.  I just want to move past it all, Jim.”

Jim sighs in that sad way he does when he’s trying to empathize with whoever’s he’s interrogating.  “Look, I just need a lead. Give me anything, Oswald.”

“A favor?”

“Yeah, you could say that.  This is big stuff, Oswald.  Whatever you’re doing to exploit City Council is small beans compared to this.  Bruce Wayne was kidnapped.  There’s an organization even higher than Falcone and you and the families.  They want to wipe Gotham out, Oswald.  I know you’re a lot of things, but you don’t want to see this city burn.  Please.  Just help me out here.  And I’ll… I’ll turn a blind eye to this Nygma thing.”

“What _Nygma_ thing?”  Oswald snaps, “You have a problem with our relationship!?”

“That man out there is not Ed Nygma.  And you and I both know it.”  There’s another tap and Ed feels a strange hope stirring in his heart.  “This is Ed Nygma.  You had Victor Fries entomb him here somehow in this fish tank.  I figure Ed’s the one at the center of your disappearance six months ago.  And you got back at him.  It’s deep, Oswald.  Very deep.  Is he dead in there?”

“I’m not going answer such a ludicrous question.  Good day, detective.”

“Oswald, the city…”  Their voices move away and Ed imagines Jim turning the full force of his sincere puppy-dog eyes down on Oswald.  “You can be the one that turns the tide here.  You can be the hero.  Just give me Hugo.”

Oswald finally answers, “If I knew where a man like that was, I’d say he’d still be working.  Heavily guarded and backed by some serious power now.”  There's a scribbling and scraping sound, “And if I were to give you this, I know it wouldn’t be traced back to me, yes?”

“Right, Oswald.  I’ll leave you out of it.  But you have my thanks.  And I owe you one.”

“Another one.”

Jim laughs, “Yes.  Another one.  Maybe… leaving this minor problem of your centerpiece unsolved will even the ledger.”

“There’s no problem, Jim.  Have a nice night.  Free drinks at the bar.”

“Thanks,” there’s clap, presumably on Oswald’s back, and the sound of the door closing.

With that exit, goes the first hope Ed had of rescue since he was frozen.

* * *

 

 

In his apartment, the sounds of Gotham filter in through the open windows.  The sky is dark and the room is dark, and Ed lays with his head on Oswald’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.  “If I can’t think of a way to signal my continued sentience, I’m really done for.  If I thaw out at the wrong time, I’m probably dead.”

Oswald combs his fingers in Ed’s hair, “You’re assuming you’ll be strong enough to move.  What do you think you look like on the other side?  A handsome statue of ice standing up in the middle of the room?  Laid out on a table maybe?  Rocky Horror Picture Show?”

“No,” Ed tugs Oswald’s arm until he gets the hint.  He’s wrapped in a tight hug.  It feels good and Ed sighs and turns his head and kisses the center of Oswald’s chest.  “Jim called it a fish tank.  I’m submerged but upright.  If I were laying down, I’d know it.”

Oswald laughs, “Oh, please.  You don’t know which way is up.  And you don’t know what time it is, what day it is, or where you are.  You’re completely lost.”

“Not true,” Ed gets up to prove his point.  There are three big marker boards around the room now, filled with overheard facts he’s learned.  “Jim said it’s been six months since Oswald’s mayoral disappearance, that updates my previous estimate from it being early May to late June or early July.”

Oswald sits up on his side, and the light on his face is close to the night he told Ed about his mother’s song.  He looks younger and smaller and just oh so defenseless.  Who knows what the clone version of him is getting up to out there.  Looking at him hurts a little, so Ed turns back to his boards.  Oswald hums, “Mmmm.  You can’t be sure of that.  And you’re still just hypothesizing.  Come back to bed, Ed.  It’s cold.”

“No.”  Ed moves from board to board, “This place is called the Iceberg Lounge.  Fish Mooney is working with him, through the freak army to shake things down.  They have a deal with Barbara and Butch to keep the Sirens.  But she and Oswald run _everything_.  Seedy and otherwise.  Barbara…” He goes back to note he made days ago, “Is super unhinged and resentful.  She’s not planning to help me out of this.  Tabitha and Butch hate me, but they hate Oswald more.  Butch is still loyal to Fish, and Tabitha’s going along with it.”  He moves on to something more recent, “That little cat, Kyle has been in on errands.  She’s looking for leads to find Bruce Wayne.  Gordon’s right.  The boy king was definitely kidnapped or misplaced somehow and I think Oswald knows all about it.”

“What?”

“Not you.  Upstairs.”

“Oh, right.”

Ed sighs and rubs his eyes, “And knowing all of this is not getting me out of here.”

“Come back to bed, Ed.  You’ll catch a cold out there.  If you come here I’ll rub your tummy and sing to you.”  He smiles wide at Ed, and it would be easy to just listen and fall into his arms.  But then Oswald looks down and frowns, “Are your socks wet?”

Ed looks down as well, surprised to see he’s A, wearing socks.  And B, they are indeed wet.  He’s standing in a bit of a puddle.  “Odd,” says Ed.  He looks back at the bed and finds Oswald gone.  It sends Ed panicking, having his only comfort just disappear.  He scrambles for the bed, but he feels slow.  Like he’s sticking to the floor.  The puddle of water gets bigger and bigger. 

“Ed,” calls a distant voice.  “Ed!”

* * *

 

Ed opens his eyes to the sight of startling white eyes and shocks of white hair.  He starts to yelp, but he can barely make a sound.  The ghoulish face backs away and Ed recognizes Victor Fries.  It’s cold.  All Ed can think about is the cold.

“I don’t know if he’s all there,” says Fries.  “I never really tested reanimation like this.  Are you certain, this is what the boss wanted?”

Ed looks around the room and realizes they’re in some kind of freezer, surrounded by meat.  A blanket is thrown on him and he’s grateful for it.  For the first time in months, he feels his heart beating. 

“Yes, of course, thank you, Victor.”  Ed turns to the voice and is shocked to see himself, dressed in a purple suit and parka standing by the door.  The other Ed looks… rather sinister.  Ed chocks it up to the ridiculous goatee and mustache.  “I won’t be long.  And you can just freeze him again when I’m done.”

“But that might kill him in this state.  And Penguin had very specific orders…”

“Well things have changed, and we can’t have him still living in that icy soup can where just anyone can find him.  Or do you like having the GCPD suspecting you of his murder.”

“He’s wasn’t dead.  He was just, slowed down.  Way, way down,” reasons Fries.

Ed tries to speak again but coughs instead, he sputters up something pinkish and Victor turns him to his side. 

“That’s the last of the fluid.  Okay.  He’ll be back to breathing air in a minute.  He could talk then.”

“Fine.  Get going.”  Victor gets up with a frown and leaves slowly, hesitating at the door before Ed Two slams it in his face.  The other Ed turns and claps his hands, “Well.  We have so much to talk about.”

Ed coughs, but can’t find the words to speak yet.

It’s fine, since the other Ed likes to hear himself speak.  “For starters, how was that?  A long deep sleep?  Darkness?  Did you dream?  Do we have the same dreams I wonder?  I know my own dreams can get a little… nightmarish.  Especially when I think of having to live out the rest of my life playing second fiddle to a pathetic, frozen popsicle.”

He stalks forward and smiles and Ed grimaces, thinking Ivy was right.  There’s something very off about that smile.  He’s never seen it in a mirror.

“I just couldn’t wait.  I thought long and hard about this.  I could have poisoned the oxygen solution in the tank, but they would have noticed it over time.  No,” he says with a put-upon sigh.  “You have to die and then freeze completely solid and quickly, preserving that resemblance of life.  If you die in the tank, well, you’ll just rot and I’ll be exposed to Oswald.  And I can’t have that, Mr. Riddler.”

To think how hard he fought to earn that name, and having the only person recognize it is himself is… well laughable.  Ed would laugh but he’s a little too terrified.  He manages to rasp out, “And it would make more sense to kill me now and hope I don’t rot anyway?  Right.”

The other Ed shrugs, “I’ve thought this through all day.  Oz is upstairs getting his beauty rest.  I ah,” he kneels down to whisper in Ed’s ear.  “I really gave him a workout.  I mean I just outdid myself.  It’s fortunate that he’s so resilient, our Oz.  He’ll be down with his meds for at least…” He checks his watch, “Oh, six hours.  That gives me plenty of time.”

Ed feels sick to his stomach.  It could be because he was roughly snatched from a suspended state, but it’s mostly because he can easily imagine the darkest parts of his psyche manifested and they look just like the monster before him.  It’s what he wanted to become as the Riddler, but _too_ dark.  The parts that barely resist taking things, where he _draws_ the line in taking.  And there’s no telling what he’s done to Oswald.  “If you hurt him…”

The other barks out a laugh.  He backs away, laughing even harder and pointing at Ed’s face.  “If you hurt him… Hah!  You should hear yourself!”  He covers his mouth with gloved hand, eyes wide, “Well I guess you just did!”

“What do you want?!”

The fake Ed pulls off his gloves and backs up to a wall.  “I can always put you back in with a few alterations under the suit.  Oz never need to now.  What I need right now is a little information.  As close as we’ve gotten, as eager as he is to let me in and just— mmph!”  He punches a fist though the air, “ _Ruin_ him, utterly for everyone, even Zsasz.  Well, I get the sense he’s still a little reticent about sharing.  I need you to fill in the gaps.”

Ed narrows his eyes and smirks, “He doesn’t trust you.  Good.  You look like a badly drawn copy anyway.”

“Lies,” says the doppelganger raising a finger.  “With him, I’m _me_.  Not you.  I put my foot down about that early on.  And he likes _me_ better.  I give him what he wants and needs.  The whole shebang.  No rhymes or riddles buffering years of whatever your fucked up childhood did to you.”  He pouts at Ed, “And he tells me just enough to know you’re pitiful and underserving.  So why don’t you be a good big brother or dad, whatever you are to me, and just spill.”

Ed wants to vomit, just thinking of them related in any sense.  But there’s something the overblown ego of the fake hasn’t considered.  Ed’s warming.  And has more feeling in his arms and legs already.  He went in, healed and at peak condition, just for this.  To survive the process of freezing and now, it’s coming undone, but he doesn’t feel weaker for it.  Time.  He could work with wasting time.  “Is he still being an insufferable brat about me shooting him.”

The fake Ed gives him that disturbing smile, “Oh yes.  You did leave a really unattractive scar after all.”

“Fine, but only to settle it.  You’re planning to betray him anyway, right?  It’s what I’d do.  It’s what I _did_.  What do you want to know?  His safe houses?  His offshore accounts?  That weird mound of Viking money?”

The fake Ed bites the last line, “What Viking money?”

Ed laughs, “He has a hoard.  Like a damn dragon or something.  His mother’s things.  His father’s papers.  And about a million dollars stashed away for an emergency.  Just in case things go belly up and he can’t get to his traditional stuff.  He had me digging for hours.  Surely he told you about that?”

“No,” says the fake.  He grinds his teeth and comes closer, bends down.  “Where is it?”

Ed shivers and his shoulders move, his limbs feel loose enough to try and move, but he doesn’t risk showing his hand yet.  “I could draw you a map- oh wait.”

“Fine, Mr. First Draft.  No need to be a little shit about it.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-13-18

Ed talks and talks until he feels life in his legs.  It’s all bullshit but the Fake doesn’t need to know that.  “So we had this hacker help us with it and now he can start an account with how every much money he needs, whenever he needs.  It’s how we keep up his father’s estate.”

“Liar,” says the fake.  “I’ve seen the documents.  I handle the affairs and accounts now.  Oswald inherited _millions_ from his father.”

“And he spent it.  Almost immediately.  On goons. Buyoffs to keep the peace when Barb was making noise. Buyoffs to wheedle traitors working with Butch.  There’s not much left of his father’s original investments and property, and if I know Oswald, he’s flying through the money again.”  He looks around, “Is this freezer in a club?  Did Oswald rebuild his place?  If he did I bet he’s just siphoning money down the drain.  I was the only thing keeping him and his ambitions afloat.  I knew how to do my damn job.”

“Shut up!”  The Fake, and Ed refuses to think of as anything else now, paces again.  “I was doing fine until a couple of weeks ago.  If he doesn’t trust me with this, how can I help him?  And he’s just spending it all on useless crap like this, this…” he gestures to himself, “Stupid suits!  Why in god’s name would anyone need so many clothes!?”

Ed disagrees with him completely there but nods his head anyway, “And he still wants the best of the best.  Desperate to impress his _Mama_.  Despite making little to no return in the bar.”

“Yes!  I drink half the- hey.”  He bends down closer and gives Ed a toothy smile.  “We’re bonding!  Maybe I’ll keep you around.  Bounce things off you.  There could be two of me and twice the fun!  Twice the glamour.  Twice the attention!  We could be in two places at once!  I could get twice as much done!”

Ed gives him a flat look, “Maybe you should hire a personal assistant.  I could recommend some interns from City Hall.  Delia is great at shorthand.  Mark is decent for fetching things.  Amahl and Jamal are fantastic party planners.  Cate with the short hair is marrying into that bakery from ninth and always has fresh, free snacks… Tar- no wait.  He’s dead.  But…,” He wiggles his toes and hopes it's not noticed.  “There’s always Larry the big Gay Bear.”

“What?”

“Larry.  He’s a kid entertainer with unfortunate nomenclature, but excellent kid wrangling skills.  Kids are important to certain functions.  Are you putting Oswald back on the podium?  …No.  You’re taking it, aren’t you?  I gotta say the thought crossed my mind but it would be so easy.  It’d feel like cheating.”

The Fake rolls his eyes.  “I could care less what it feels like to you.  But I do care about having the right allies in the right places.  If you can’t give me more than buried treasure and party planners, I’m out of use for you.”

He turns his back on Ed to pull over one of the cuts of meat.  There’s a meat cleaver in the side and the Fake has trouble yanking it out.  Ed takes the moment to try his strength.  Its surprisingly easy to sit up, the blanket falls and he sees he was dress in light gray pajamas. 

The fake turns around slowly.  “Oh.  Really?”

Ed shrugs and stretches his neck, “Really.  There’s nothing like a nice long nap in a life-sustaining solution.  I feel brand new, in fact.”

“Good for you.  I’m just going to explain your tank had an accident.  A power outage or something.  It won’t matter.  I’ll tie him down and make him forget all about you.  As usual.”

“If that were working,” says Ed as stands up.  “You wouldn’t be here, trying to get me to share what he holds back.  I hate sharing.”

“Me too.”

Well, thinks Ed.  There’s only one thing for that.  The Fake swings out wildly with the cleaver and Ed ducks then grabs him by the arm and twists.  There’s a loud crack but the Fake doesn’t seem to care.  He punches Ed in the head and pushes him into the gurney.  Ed shakes his head and starts to get up, but the Fake covers his face with the blanket and starts punching him in the ribs.

Ed is trying to think of a way to free himself and why, in fuck’s name is the counterfeit so strong?

Fake Ed slams his face into the gurney and kicks Ed to the floor.  He picks up the cleaver again despite his arm being obviously very broken.  “Well, that was sort of underwhelming. I don’t know why I expected more.  You need to realize something, Edward.  I’m better than you.  In every conceivable way.  I’m smarter, faster, better looking and I fuck---“

Ed covers his eyes as a blast of ice fires from the doorway.  He looks up at the sight of Victor standing with an annoyed look. “God, I’m glad that’s over.”

“What?”

“He is always yapping,” explains Fries.  He steps in with a bag on his back and closes the door behind him.  He moves quickly to the frozen Ed and checks it over.  “He’s been trying to coax me into thawing you for weeks.  Then yesterday, Ivy shrugged and said, ‘why not?’.  She got this idea that if I switch you two, you’ll play along and not get us in trouble.”

“What,” repeats Ed intelligently.  He’s not quite wrapping his head around this.

Fries shrugs, so like Ivy’s usual gesture.  “It’s like whatever.”  He smiles, “Didi here, was a major dick.  He thought he was our boss.  He tanked the whole family thing.  I really liked the early days.  It was nice, but he’s such a separatist.  It’s not good for a family.  And he’s bad for Oswald.  The little guy was already unhinged, but now he’s just… it’s not good.  Didi’s got to go.”

“Didi?”

“Everything I just said and that’s what you’re hung up on?  Yeah, Didi.  He didn’t want anyone calling him Edward or the Riddler and Bridgit called him Ed With Two D’s.  And it kind of just stuck.”  He pulls out a thermal blanket and wraps it around Ed.  “We got a little time to make you presentable.  Don’t worry about him.  I’ll put him back in the tank with no one the wiser.”  He pulls out an electric razor.  “I’mma have to thaw the head first.”

Ed stands there shivering and confused, but sure of one of thing.  “Where’s Oswald?”

Fries is adjusting his gun and shrugs again.  “Upstairs.  Sleeping off whatever Didi did to him.  I checked on him when I left you.  He’s in bad shape.  Best tell him you had a change of heart about the goatee or something.  Don’t want to shock the poor guy.”

“Is he okay?”

Fries stops what he’s doing, “Do you care?”

“…Yes.”

“Then no.  But he’ll be fine.  He’s a resilient specimen.  Like algae that grow around an oil spill.  He’ll make it.  And you can either play along or go down the sewers.  Take your pick.”  He moves back to the door, “Take that and go up to the top floor.  The whole thing is Ozzy’s place.  Ivy’s back at her mansion.  No one else knows about this.  And its gonna stay that way, right.”

“Right,” says Ed through clicking teeth.  “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me.  Just don’t fuck up like he did.  Actually, don’t fuck up like _you_ did, either.”

“Right,” echoes Ed.  He shivers with the blanket and his body is numb to what is probably aches and bruises.  “I’ll just… go.”

Fries ignores him while Ed walks into what appears to be an empty kitchen.  He finds an elevator with four buttons and picks the one customized as an umbrella. 

* * *

 

Penguin’s new home away from home is stark and sleek.  It’s nothing like his personal taste and Ed suspects Didi had something to do with the obnoxious, open college grad’s Target layout.   There’s no pattern or real art or history in the space.  It’s a minimalist nightmare. Ed shuffles to a wall with a giant black circle painted on a stark white canvas.  He sneers, “Oh, no.  I’m getting rid of that.”

He checks all the doors carefully, cracking them open to find the bedroom.  It’s the darkest room, lit only by the crack of light he lets in from the door.  There’s a large bed with red sheets.  And in the center of the bed, is a very unconscious Oswald.

He starts to run forward but stops himself.  A voice in his head reminding him, this is Upstairs Oswald.  He doesn’t know what they are together.  He doesn’t know what Ed learned in his time of forced introspection and solitude.  Ed can’t just run up and act like everything’s okay… Well, he can.  But he can’t be Edward.  He has to be… Didi.

Ed walks wide of the bed and moves to the bathroom.  He closes and locks the door and looks around at the bathroom with way too much tech.  There’s a flatscreen tv by a mirror for god’s sake.  Why in the world would Oswald allow that, he wonders.

He turns the water on in the shower, hoping it’ll help thaw his joints.  There’s His and His toiletries by the sink.  And several pill bottles prescribed to Oswald in the medicine cabinet and two sets of extra glasses.  Matching purple everything, an electric razor like the one Fries had.  It’s odd, Oswald always preferred doing it the old-fashioned way.  He entrusted the task to Edward in their morning routine… Ed’s tempted to chuck the thing in the bin, but he has to keep up the allusion.  He plugs it in and plans to leave it out.  He shaves a little of his hair around the sides and hopes it looks convincing.  Like someone called Didi decided to change his look.

When he’s done with the shower, he checks himself carefully.  He’d say he passes for Didi, but the glasses throw him off.  Didi has a different prescription.  Or no prescription, he thinks, observing how they’re not even concave.  He sighs and tosses them on the sink and wraps up in a towel.  He feels better with the shower and risks going out to look over Oswald.

The bedroom is unchanged.  Ed spent an hour in the bathroom and Oswald hasn’t moved.  That’s not a good sign.  Even when he was blackout drunk, Oswald would sleep restlessly. 

He sits on the bed and brushes Oswald’s hair back.  His back is covered in reddening bruises and fingerprints.  Marks on his neck and arms are turning purple.  Ed wishes he could go down and kill the clone all over again when he notices the round hub of a butt plug in Oswald’s backside.  He carefully turns Oswald over and gasps at the sight.  He’s just as mottled in the front.  “Oz? Oswald?”

He stirs slowly and looks up with one eye open.  “Why’s it so bright in here,” he slurs.

Ed pulls him into his arms, “It’s not bright.  Come here.  Are you okay?”  His voice shakes, having the real thing sit up and easily fit into his arms is so different from what they were to each other... was only months ago?  Ed realizes he still hasn’t checked a calendar yet.  But he’s never had this.  It was freely given to the counterfeit, and that makes him so angry and disappointed things didn’t go differently.  “You look awful.”

Oswald snorts a laugh and hides his face, the dark circles under his eyes and everything.  “Well yeah.  My head still aches.  Maybe in a couple of hours.  Thanks for… you know.  That was great, Didi.”

Ed squeezes him a little too tight.  He takes a deep breath and tries to calm down before blowing his cover.  “I’m… why not just call me Ed?  You did it before, right?  Just call me Edward.  From now, no more Didi.”

Oswald looks up him with big eyes and gasps, “Didi, do you mean it?”

“Call me, Ed.”

“Ed!”  Oswald grabs him by the neck and kisses him on the mouth, then everywhere he can reach.  He grins and pulls Edward down to the bed, “Di—I mean Ed.  Ed!  Really!  Hugo said you might change your mind after a while…”

“Well, I have.”

“OH god!”  Oswald slaps him on the chest and shakes him a little, “I don’t believe it!”

“Believe it.  I’ve been thinking.  For some time… that maybe I’ve been selfish.  I’ve thought of you as property and I’ve been jealous and petty.  And I hold back the things you want from me to punish you, but it just hurts us both…”  That got very close to a confession and Ed not sure he’s comfortable with it.  But after so long with his fake Oswald, he’s used to spilling his heart.

The real Oswald hums like he’s satisfied and lays his head on Ed’s shoulder.  “Is this about Fish?”

Ed cants his head, not wanting to give up that he doesn’t know what Oswald’s talking about.  “No.  I just want to be there for you.  From now on.  No matter what.”

Oswald kisses him on the shoulder.  “That’s nice.”  Ed looks at his face, sees his eyes drooping but the smile on his face is wide.  Ed can’t believe he managed that in a just a few moments.  Oswald sits up suddenly on one elbow and bites his lip, “Ed.”  He takes a deep breath, “Ed.  Will you fuck me?”

Ed stares up at him in shock and doesn’t move, even after Oswald turns around to rummage in a side table, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea…”

“Oh, it’s only been like two hours.  I can take it.  Come on.”  He turns to Ed with a condom and lube and lays out on his belly.  “Please, however you want me.”

It’s tempting, having Oswald just offer himself up. But it’s not real, like Oswald said last time.  He’s high on whatever pills he took and he thinks Ed is Didi pretending to be Ed.  It’s not fair, and that doesn’t sit right with Ed.  He puts the things aside and kisses Oswald on the side of the head, “Take another nap, and I’ll make us something to eat.  We’ll talk more then.”  He’s not quite strong enough to keep his hands to himself.  He lets his fingers slide over the curve of Oswald’s back and down his spine and cleft.  He gingerly dips his fingers and Oswald moans.  Ed pulls out the plug and looks down to check Oswald properly.  He’s still wet and open.  And that’s not right.  Oswald spreads his legs in anticipation, and that’s _really_ not right.  Ed wipes his fingers on the sheets and kisses Oswald again.  “Sleep.”

Oswald sighs, but it doesn’t take much to convince him.  He closes his eyes and turns his head.  His breathing evens out in no time and Ed gets up and shuts the door.

Ed sits down in the kitchen counter on a barstool with his head in his hands and cries.  When he feels more settled, he gets up and looks through the fridge.  Whatever he makes, it’ll have to be special.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer, I have no problem with people who shop in Target for furniture, but I imagine Ed would. :P


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-13-18

Ivy and Victor Fries are BFFs.

It was noted while Ed was frozen.  Victor often spent time with her while she was watering her plants and checking on Ed in stasis.  Ed can’t be sure everything he heard was real, but he’s sure of that.

Also.

Ivy and Oswald are BFFs.

In fact, she applies the title to several other characters in their little family.  She’s a friendly girl, and open to having many friendships, maintaining them all with the same kind of earnestness.  And Ed’s not sure how, but while he was frozen, and she prattled on in one-sided conversations, she knighted him as well.

Ivy, Oswald, Victor, and Ed all sit at the kitchen table almost four hours after Ed was thawed.  Oswald is dressed like he was going to down to the club but changed his mind when Ed opened the oven.  Fries came up to bring Ed his glasses and let him know everything was set with Didi downstairs.  For some reason, he decided to stay for dinner.  He explained that he ate rarely, mostly just pureed frozen slushies.  Ed allowed him to blend his own dinner.  Ivy ringed up as a surprise and at the door, checked him by pinching his right nipple very hard.  It was hardly definitive but she seemed satisfied by his reaction. Ed went to all the trouble to make Oswald’s favorite comfort foods and then Ivy’s specialized vegan servings.  So they sat and started eating without much to say to each other.

Ivy looks sweet in a green dress and Victor is perhaps aiming for non-lethal as he enjoys his special shake. Oswald was smiling tight at first, but as the dinner went on, he seemed to loosen up.  “You two,” he says pointing at Ivy then Ed.  “What are you up to?”

Ivy shrugs, biting into eggplant and mushrooms seared like meat, “What?  Can’t we have a nice, quiet evening up here without the noise and alcohol downstairs?”

“No,” says Oswald.  He pointedly pours himself another glass of wine.  “What I mean is, why are you two being so quiet?  Usually its business or catfighting or both.  Not this.  This is a little weird.  Did you kill someone together?”

Victor coughs into his glass, “What!  Why would you say that?”

Oswald laughs and Ed takes his lead, laughing as well and pointing at Victor, “Ah, he’s guilty of something.”

“I’d say.”  Oswald clinks his glass with Ed’s, “But I’m talking about you two, Didi.  I can’t think of any reason for you two not to be clawing at each other.  Short of dirt under the nails,” he raises a brow and looks at their hands.  “Who was it, and how deep did you bury them?”

Ivy shrugs, “Its nothing, Ozzy.  He kind of apologized to me earlier over the phone and I decided to forgive his past rudeness.  I’m nice like that.”  She smiles and looks to Ed to cooperate.

“Right,” says Ed.  “Like I told you earlier.  I’ve been looking at myself and it’s not fair of me to treat you and our dear cohorts so badly?”  He doesn’t mean to sound so unsure but Ivy and Victor nod.  So, he clears his throat, “And I’d like to say, here with all of you present.  That I’m less afraid of being tossed aside for the… original copy.  I think that was driving a lot of anxiety on my part.  But you do love me, don’t you Oswald?”

Oswald grins and takes his hand.  He doesn’t answer and part of Ed wants to jump for joy because Oswald thinks he is answering Didi.  And he’s not answering at all.

Ed grins back squeezes his hand, “So I see no problem with being who I’m supposed to be.  Call me Ed.  Or Edward.  All of you.  I’d like that.”

Ivy applauds and Victor awkwardly follows suit.  Oswald leans over and kisses him on the mouth, and Ed closes his eyes and savors it.

“Ew,” says Ivy.  “But cool.  I’m happy that you’re happy.  And thanks for the help moving my problem.  He was super heavy.  Totally lame.”

Victor nods, “The lamest.”

Oswald slaps the table laughing and shaking a finger at them all, “You _scamps_.  You get up to all kind of nonsense when I’m gone.”  Ed watches him drink another glass and wonders where he’s been.  The others don’t comment and but the table comes out of the uncomfortable silence.

Ivy lets everyone know her latest efforts to concoct a natural, fast-acting remedy for blemishes and bruising worked.  She eyes Oswald sadly but he congratulates her and acts like she made it for someone else.  Victor speaks animatedly about research.  He’s taken to reviving more delicate specimens to test how to make reversing his freeze ray more effective.  Oswald gets a strange look on his face and squeezes Ed’s hand.  Ed wonders if Oswald was already on the fence, perhaps planning to let him out after a year of using Didi.  Maybe they moved too soon.

“Well, this is all great news, but I have the best.”  Oswald drums on the table and looks around with wide smile before cracking up.  Whatever his news is, it delights him.

“Spit it out, Pengy!  I _hate_ guessing games!”  She grips her fork and gives Oswald a look that makes Victor and Ed nervous.

Oswald doesn’t seem to mind, “Okay but… maybe a riddle first.”

Victor and Ivy both sigh dramatically.  Victor falls forward and covers his ears while Ivy crosses her eyes and mimes shooting herself in the head.  Ed is completely surprised and delighted, but unsure how to respond.  So, he tries not to look too eager before he asks, “Well?  What is it?”

“What has eight hands, eight feet, and a really big brain between them?”

“You’re pregnant!”  Ivy points with a grin while all the men cringe and then rethinks her answer.  She gasps with wide eyes and whispers, “We’re getting puppies?!”

Victor rubs his temples.  “Please just tell her before I start thinking of you with a pot belly.”

Oswald shrugs, “I am!”

Ivy leans forward, “You are pregnant!”

“No,” says Ed as he catches on.  “He made copies of himself.”

Oswald points to his nose, “Dead on the head, Ed.”  He grins and slaps the table.  He’s very drunk now.  “I just commissioned some emergency copies.  They’ll be ready in no time with Hugo’s improvements.”

This is certainly news to Ed, but he has no way knowing if its news to Didi.  Given Didi’s questioning, he deduces that it is.  “Is this the first time I’m hearing of this?”

Oswald bites his lips and gives Ed hand another squeeze, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.  “It’s not a problematic deal.  It’s about longevity.  If I ever I need to deploy a decoy, I’ll have one.  They’re not as sophisticated as you, Sweetheart.  More like the Aubreys, but honestly, Hugo couldn’t help the degeneration when already working such lacking material.”  He starts to pour another glass and Ed stills his hand.

“I think you’ve had enough, Oswald.”

“Yeah,” echoes Ivy.  “That’s way worse than you having puppies.  I’m out.”  She throws her napkin down and gets up.

Fries stands up as well, “It’s been quite the evening, gents.”

They leave Ed and Oswald at the table and Oswald sits there pouting, mad his news didn’t go over well.  “What’s the big deal!  It’s not a bad idea to have insurance with everything going on.”

Ed gets up and starts to clear the dishes, he leaves Oswald, hoping he’ll finish his dinner.  He had more drink than food tonight.  “I think they’re a little worried.  If you can replace me, and yourself.  Then what’s to stop you from replacing them?”

“Replace you?  Pfft…,” Oswald pushes his plate away and gets up.  “I’m going downstairs.”

Ed drops the dishes with a crash, “Oswald, you can’t do this.”

“Don’t!  Didi!  You’re not even… this has nothing to do with you.  And calling you Ed won’t make you real.  I realized that months ago.”  He gets up and stomps away from the table with his cane.  “Don’t follow me down there.  No amount of backroom sex can make up for you presuming to step so far out of your place.”

Ed would be glad to hear this if Oswald was dealing with Didi.  But he’s not.  Ed stomps around the counter and marches up to Oswald.  “And what exactly is my place now?”

“It’s wherever I put you,” Oswald smiles points a finger at his chest, “I own you, _Didi_.  Every cell is patented and trademarked and paid for.  I’m not telling you again.  You’re not entitled to autonomy or agency here.  You’re a _thing_.  And I don’t have to answer to my thing.”

Ed grabs him by that finger, anger welling up inside him guides his movement with little thought.  He pulls Oswald close.   Ed feels strong despite the fight earlier.  He sure he could break Oswald in half with little effort.  But before he does any damage, he looks in his eyes.  And sees the same blankness he walked in on earlier.  Here, in this ridiculous apartment, Oswald thinks he’s completely alone, and the fake Ed drove him to that.  Ed takes a deep, steadying breath and lets go.

Oswald pulls away slowly.  “Goodnight.”  He heads for the elevator and doesn’t look back.

* * *

They live in tense silence for the next couple of days.  Ed catches up with time passed.  Its July eighth, the club has been open for three months.  Didi had two loyal underlings named Kay and Stubbs and they’re both idiots.  Ed would fire them but they’re his only link to uncovering the last six months.  It turns out Didi was made weeks after Ed was frozen.  The counterfeit Ed had to be ‘repaired’ frequently because he didn’t feel pain, and was often employed to the front lines.  Oswald and Fish pushed the other families out before they could rally behind Barbara.  Ed tries to be subtle prodding them for information.  But they’re very talkative and need little pushing when they want to express their opinion.

Kay is a tall woman who insists on always wearing sunglasses and stylish menswear.  She’d cut a more a convincing figure if she had even ounce of real malice, like Tabitha or Barbara.  Ed sighs whenever she starts talking of her own plans for a club.  In upspeak.  “…so?  Like if _I_ were running this joint for you boss, you’d be _free.  Like really._   Like just think about it.  I’d have all the hottest girls.  The _hottest_ _guys_ , like just clamoring to get in here.  Just seriously.  Like think about it.”

Stubs, a middle-aged gunman of little talent throws his paper at her, “Every day I have to listen to you try and talk this good, hardworking man out of his business.  Every day.”  He smiles up at Ed from where’s he lounging, “Ignore her boss.  She’s just a failed heiress brat.  You’re doing great.”  He gives Ed a thumbs-up.  Actually, his main talent seems to be brownnosing. 

Ed shakes his head and turns back to the books.  They’re in the office and he’s been distracted enough, staring up at Didi in the tank.  He knows Fries put him in to look as he did, and a part of him is scared to be in the same room with it.  Didi is likely dead on the other side of the glass, floating on in the suspension in Ed’s green suit with a peaceful look on his face. 

Ed looks away from it, sad to think the most stable relationship he’s ever had was in his own mind.  He wishes there was a way to get the real Oswald to love him back like the figment did.

“Boss,” says Kay posing on a chair as if paparazzi were hiding somewhere, “How come we don’t just drop the Fish a visit now?  Like if I were going to inspire my crazy boyfriend to fall in love with me, I’d get the mom to like me.  And she just hates you so much…”  She sits up and holds out her hands, “And get this!  We can…”

“Shut up,” says Ed.  “Out.  The both of you.  I’ll send for you when I have need.”  He closes one ledger and opens another without looking up at them.

They leave just as Oswald is entering.  He shuts the door behind them.  “Were you being mean to them again, Didi?”

It’s a bait, calling him by that name after he’s been asked not to.  Ed refuses to rise to it.  He turns another page and makes his notes, adding the balances to his long memory.  “Is there something you need, sir?”

He’s kept Oswald at distance since the other night.  He sleeps on the couch and wakes up early.  He leaves the room when Oswald walks in.  It’s the opposite of what he promised, but Didi or no, those words hurt.  And he’s been debating with himself if he should just tell the truth.  If he gets up and points at the tank now, ‘Look, that’s the fake!  I’m real!  Look at me!’  Will Oswald still love him enough to let it go, or will he shoot Ed in the face?  Honestly, it could go either way.

Oswald paces the room, before stopping in front of the tank.  Ed watches him reach out to the glass and resolve to keep up the charade almost crumbles.

“Remember when I had you on the desk, and made you promise… No matter what state I’m in, we can never do something like that in front of Ed.  Its disrespectful.  He’s my first love and the first real friend I’ve ever had.  He deserves better than that.”

Ed goes still at the books, and looks around the desk and imagines a creature like Didi letting Oswald do anything to him here.  It would have been calculated and manipulating.  He considered going to bed with Oswald a handful of times before driving him mad.  It was always dismissed as just _too_ far.  But he sure the counterfeit had no problem with using sex and intimacy against Oswald.

Ed looks up at where Oswald stands with his arms crossed, hugging himself and staring into the blue. 

Ed makes up his mind, that for as long as Oswald believes he’s what he’s not, he won’t give in.  He won’t cross that line, but intimacy is more than just sex.  He deduces the fake never figured it out and never really gave Oswald what he wanted, despite his crowing otherwise.

Ed stands up and crosses over to the tank and Oswald and then wraps his arms around him.  He bends and rests his chin on the top of Oswald’s shoulder, “I completely understand.  I told you.  This is a brand new me, you’re dealing with.  It’s like a switch went off.  Maybe it’ll take some time, but I want us to be friends too.”  He kisses Oswald on the side of the face and turns him around into a hug.  Oswald squeezes back hard and Ed sighs, “See.  We’ll just take baby steps.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-13-18

After another day of fishing for information, Ed learns that Didi was sleeping with Kay and a selection of club patrons on the side.  Oswald knew this, and spent most of his time back at the manor, alone.  Ed trashed the apartment upstairs when he got a call from Stubbs, telling him the old chain and ball was safely delivered and someone called Pam was on their way up to his rooms.

The doorbell rings just after Ed rips apart the god-awful painting of a black dot.  He answers the door with a butcher knife and smiles at a leggy blonde.

She runs away screaming and Ed slams the door.

He fires Kay and Stubbs over the phone and decides to go for a walk.

* * *

 

Ed had struggled as a young man with finding acceptance and appreciation for his obvious gifts.  It motivated him to stay in Gotham and eke out a meager career, following a brilliant run at old Gotham U.  Staying in a city of hopelessness and ignorance kept him down, and he would often imagine stepping out of Gotham’s depressive atmosphere and shining somewhere else.

But he’s learned to appreciate the city, as it moves and breathes like a living organism.  Every person is just another part of the body, each cell independently working to make everything work.  As much as anything can work in Gotham.

Finding an urchin informant is easy, finding Jim Gordon in a dive bar is easier.  And he takes a moment to appreciate the machinations at work before entering and taking a seat next to his old colleague.

Jim sighs and rolls his eyes, “I see you shaved the fuzz.  Did Penguin ask you to play the part better?”

“Hello, Jim.”  Ed raises a finger and orders himself a shot of whatever Jim’s having.

“I guess you’re here to cover for him.  Don’t worry.  Bigger things at stake at the moment.  So unless you’re here to help…”

“I could be persuaded.”

Jim rolls his eyes, “And for what, exactly, Didi.”  He gives Ed a side eye.  “Yeah, I’ve heard your two geniuses call you that more than once.  Not really a step up from the Riddler.  Where do you think you’re going with a name like Mr. Didi in Gotham?”  He shakes his head takes another sip of his drink.

Ed smiles slowly, “What’s strong enough to smash ships, but still fears the sun?”

Jim drops his glass, spilling it on the bar and turns back slowly to ice.  “Holy shit.”

“No.  Try again.  But you already know the answer.  Really, Jim.  I didn’t think your memory so…”

Ed’s cut off when Jim grabs him by his jacket and pulls him in for a hug.  It’s hardly the reaction he was expecting.  Given how they last saw each other.  Jim lets him go and stands up, takes a few steps back and just stares.  “It’s you.”

Ed crosses his arms and hopes he’s not blushing.  If this is what being seen by Jim really feels like, he can see why the others are always following him into firefights.  “It's me.”

“Well okay.  Wait, no.”  Jim frowns and points a finger in Ed’s chest, “You tried to kill me!  And Lee and Bruce and… hell everybody in that fire! And the **_acid_** , you—!!   I thought you were dead in the ruins before Oswald showed up with that… that…”  He covers his eyes and peeks out between his fingers like he’s seeing a ghost.  “What the hell is happening?”

“I can’t answer that right now, Jim.  But that bigger problem you’re having?  Mind filling me in?”

Jim pours himself another drink and downs it one swallow.  He clears his throat and takes his seat again.  “Lee had burns on her hands.  Fourteen people died.  I’ve got shrapnel in my side.”

“Not my problem.”  He tries to take the bottle and Jim snatches it back.

“Fine.  Let’s say I’m going to pretend the first pass that Pod Aubrey gave you for the crime spree that should have landed you back in Arkham, actually applies to you now.  What do you got on Fish and Hugo?”

“Not much on the moment.  It’d be easier to help if I knew how the board was set.”

Jim fills him in, “This group of rich and powerful people.  They call themselves the Court of Owls.  They set up Thomas and Martha Wayne’s murder.  They’ve possibly taken Bruce Wayne.  Selina Kyle’s been tracking him down after claiming…”

“What exactly?”

“That the boy living with Alfred was a double.  He’s run off to god knows where and we can’t track down the court.  My uncle’s in town.  I’m going to stay with him for a couple of days.”

“Your uncle?”

Jim pours himself another drink and sighs, “Yeah.  Apparently, he’s a member.  So was my father.  I’m a legacy power asshole.”

Ed pats him on the back and gets up without touching his glass.  “Sorry to hear that, Jim.  But thanks for the info.  I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

Jim watches him carefully, “Wait.  So, what’s Oswald think of all this?”

Ed heads for the door but answers before exiting, “He doesn’t know.”

* * *

Ed has a plan in mind, but there are steps he has to take now.  Seeds to sow before he can enjoy his efforts.  He starts off with a stop at a little antique shop.  Inside is an old friend that helped refinish some of the late Van Dahl’s more interesting pieces.  “Edward!”

“Greetings, Abrahim.”

The old man doesn’t get much work in Gotham anymore.  But Ed used him so heavily in those months where he ran the mansion and city council, he’s made up for years of stagnation.  He hobbles over to Ed and kisses both of his cheeks, “It’s been an age!  Please come in.  Are you finally here for the surprise?”

Ed nods and lets the old man walk off to retrieve his last commission.  He checks the box and the surprise over then smiles wide.  “Excellent craftsmanship.  Superb.  Thank you, Abrahim.”

He gives the old man a hearty handshake and exits the shop to hail a cab.

* * *

When Ed reaches the mansion, he finds Olga walking out with two suitcases.  “What’s all this?”

The woman sneers at him and spits on his shoes.  “He was a nice, simple boy before you, Cursed Didi!”  She turns up her nose and stomps away in the dark.

Ed lets her leave for the moment.  It wouldn’t do to stain the front steps of the house when he’s trying to apologize.  He goes inside and finds everything dark.  A song on the gramophone lilts through the rooms and Ed walks straight to the study.  Oswald is on the floor in front of the fireplace, looking down at his bent leg and holding a bottle of liquor close to his chest.

Ed steps into the room and stays in the doorway.  “Hey.”

Oswald looks up and wipes his face.  He tries to keep hold of the bottle and struggles to get up.  Ed crosses the room to help him, but he’s pushed away.  “What are you doing here?  Isn’t it Date night?”

“Yes, in a way,” he helps Oswald up anyway and stands there looking down on him, “I told you.  All new me.  No more fooling around.  We can start over.  The right way.  Slowly.”

Oswald gives him disbelieving look, “What’s this, Didi?”

“Don’t call me that.”

Oswald twists his lips and pulls away, “Don’t think I’m buying this.  I’m not some cheap hookup from the lounge.”

“No.  You’re a great man, Oswald.  You’re a visionary.  I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to see that.  I really am.  But I’m here now.  Please.  Open it,” he holds out the box and Oswald snatches it and limps away to the sofa.

He sits there, staring like he was handed a box of snakes.  “What is it?”

“Open it.  Please.”  Ed smiles carefully and kneels on the floor between Oswald’s legs. 

Oswald rolls his eyes and takes his sweet time to open the box.  He carelessly throws the top on the floor and reaches inside.  When he pulls out the pin he frowns.  “A Penguin…. Really?”

“Did you know that male Emperor Penguins keep their eggs warm by balancing them on the feet?”

Oswald closes his eyes and shakes his head but answers, “Yes.  I did know that.  What’s your point?”

Ed watches as a myriad of emotions crosses Oswald’s face.  He’s not sure he didn’t push that too far, but Oswald settles for opening them and rubbing his thumb over the little pin.  Ed smiles up at him, “Well it's fascinating.  There they are in the middle of nowhere waiting for their mates to return.  No shelter, no nests.  Letting an egg hit the ice means death.  So, they evolved to be stronger than the ice.  Stronger than the wind.  Gotham is your baby, Oswald.  I’m in awe of how you hold it all together.”

Oswald lets a tear fall down his face and puts the box down, “That’s very sweet Di—Edward.  Thank you.”  He leans forward and kisses Ed on the forehead.  “Now what do you want?”

Ed sighs but thinks about his next move, and the one after that, and after that.  He puts on another sad smile and pats Oswald on the leg, “I’m tired.  How ‘bout I order us something to eat and we head on to bed.”

Oswald stares at him like he’s grown a second, “You’re staying?  Here?  What about the ‘suffocating’ air of old tapestries or whatever you said.”

Ed shrugs and gets up.  He offers his hand to Oswald and helps him stand.  “I’ll get the place aired out in the morning.  The apartment over the lounge is going to need some redecorating.”  He gives Oswald a quick kiss on the tip of his nose and walks off smiling, feeling a little like good things are on the horizon.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edit 4-13-18

Ed dreams of playing the piano with his figment of Penguin.  Reteaching music lessons to Oswald was a unique pleasure.  And he held on to every detail.  How quickly Oswald improved and how he could take anything and slow it down, making it solemn and sad. 

Ed wakes up to the sound of shuffling.  He took his old room and found it mostly untouched.  Mostly.  There are things boxed away.  Suits that are cut to ribbons.  And Ed can’t tell what damage was Oswald and what was Didi.

He just made his bed and slept in it.

Waking up to the door cracking open and Oswald in his black silk pajamas makes his heart clench.  He sits up and puts his glasses on.  “Oswald?”  He looks at the window and sees the moonlight still filtering in, but its early morning.  Ed would have been up in an hour or so.  But Oswald rarely gets up before daybreak.

“I’m tired of us being mean to each other.  Can’t we go back to pretending we don’t care about anything but our own ambitions and kinky sex?”  He throws back the covers and climbs up on the bed.  “I’ll try and play along with this ‘switch’ you’re having.  Hugo says he loved to get you back on the couch.  Given your behavior I almost considered it.  You can’t know what that means to me.  I _hate_ that man.  But I wonder if you could feel even a fraction of what he did to us…”

“I get it, Oswald.”

“No.  No, you don’t.”  Oswald leans over and looks at him with pity, “You can’t.  You were born yesterday. Whole and perfect.  There’s nothing wrong with you.  Besides a predilection for cheating, betrayal, and bludgeoning good friends of mine.  That might just be Ed’s genetics.  Why are you so possessive over me, and still stepping out with anyone that looks at you, I don’t know.  You’re a greedy little brat.  Ed used to say something stupid about love being a clock.”

“The heart keeps its own time.”

“…no.” Oswald backs away.  “That’s not… that’s not possible.”

Ed raises his hands, partly to show he’s unarmed.  It’s dramatic but necessary if Oswald leaps to any conclusions.  “It’s okay, Oswald.  I’m just remembering things.  I don’t quite understand it, but I’m remembering things about you and me.  I know you, Oswald.  Better than anyone else, and even then, you’d still get the upper hand.  You’re a genius and I really look up to you.  Please.  Don’t be scared.”

Oswald tilts his head and studies Ed, “I’ve never heard of this before.  The copies say what they’re told to say.  They remember what they’re told to remember.  I didn’t go far enough with you, I didn’t want a perfect copy.”

Ed nods, he can look Oswald in the eye and lie for however long it takes.  “I’m not a perfect copy.  I’m just saying.  I remember you.  You’re a part of me, and I miss you.”

Oswald sobs into his hand and turns away.  “Okay.”  He nods, “Say… I believe any of this.  That doesn’t erase how you’ve been.  With me.  With Ivy and Fries and Zsasz.”

“Growing pains.”

Oswald laughs and turns to Ed with the most hopeful expression he’s ever seen.  “Really?”  He crawls over to practically sit in Ed’s lap.  Ed’s not sure what to do with an armful of Oswald Cobblepot.  But he manages. 

Ed raises his hand and smooths back the feathery fringe from Oswald’s face, “I’m not going anywhere.  I’m staying by your side.  I’m going to take better care of you.  Because…”  The words get lost.  To think he could say them easily to Kristen and Isabella after just smelling perfume is so odd.  He wonders if what Oswald said was true, and he’s never really loved anyone.

Oswald kisses him at the corner of the mouth and then high on his cheek, then the center of his forehead.  Ed’s eyes fall shut and he holds Oswald in place, one hand steadying him low on his back and the other over his heart.  Oswald kisses both of his eyelids and pulls away.  Ed opens his eyes to see him biting his lip, and shyly opening the top button of his shirt with trembling hands.

“No,” says Ed shaking his head.  He covers Oswald’s hands with his own.  “It’s not about that.  I just want to be with you.  And I think we need a break from… from distraction.”

Oswald rolls his eyes, “You haven’t touched me in days.  You claim to have given up on your little girlfriends and boyfriends. And now you don’t want me at all.”

“I have!  Given up the others, I mean.  No more dalliances with anyone.”  It’s odd to think of himself cheating on the person he’s seeing.  He can count on one hand the number of people he’s had sex with.  One and two are apparently copies and Oswald is number three.  “I’m not interested in having anyone but you.”

Oswald doesn’t look he’s buying it.  “What about Kay?”

“She’s been fired.”

“And Stubbs?”

Ed stammers, not believing the counterfeit had sex with some old, pot-belly henchmen that had a psoriasis problem.  He clears his throat and balks, “Very fired.”

Oswald still doesn’t look convinced, but gives Ed a tight smile, “Right.  I’ll believe it when I see it.”  He slides down off Ed’s lap and sits beside him.  He sighs and pulls Edward down by the collar, “But I don’t care what you’re doing with any of them.  Come here, and kiss me.  Please.” 

Ed fits himself between Oswald’s knees, steadies himself by holding Oswald’s thighs.  Nope, he thinks.  He’s not crossing that line.  He absolutely won’t.  He gives Oswald a quick kiss and tries to pull away.  Oswald grabs him by the head and licks into his mouth.  He seals their lips together and sucks on Ed’s tongue with the most _obscene_ rhythm.  Ed’s hands shake on Oswald’s legs and he must let go and distance himself before he comes in his pants.  “No… I’ll.  I won’t, I promised myself.  No more hurting you.  I’m going to control myself,” he says, trying to explain breathlessly while Oswald has the indecency to look up at him with hooded eyes and his mouth slightly parted.  Ed shakes his head and raises his hand.  “Nope.”  He rests back on his heels, thinking Oswald will surely get up and go back to his own bed.

Oswald, the evil villain, stays put and smirks at him.  He spreads his legs wider and lays down flat, prone, exposed.  His top rides up over his sides, exposing just a small ribbon of torso.  Appearing vulnerable and meek, the lying little criminal gasps softly, “Oh woe is me.  I’m being beset upon by this ghastly monster.  Oh, whatever should I do!  I know.  I’ll call for help.”  He opens his mouth and screams at the top of his lungs.

Ed panics and launches forward, covering Oswald mouth with his hand and pinning him by the chest.  “Shhh!  No!”

Oswald’s shoulder shake as he laughs and Ed is slow on the uptake, but he remembers they’re alone in the house and miles away from the city and concerned citizens.  “Oh, very funny, Oswald.”  He drags his hand down and squeezes Oswald’s neck a little in warning.  “I’m getting up and going to work.  You stay here and think about what you did.” 

Oswald is still giving him a shit-eating grin like he’s pleased as punch with Ed’s reaction.  It’s adorable.  And Ed kisses him quickly on the tip of the nose before getting up and retreating to his bathroom.  He has to take care of a little problem before he can go back out.

 

* * *

 

Oswald had disappeared by the time Ed came out of the bathroom.  He quickly got dressed in what clothes he could find whole and went downstairs.  He still felt red in the face over just having Oswald near him, and reverting to a blushing geek was the last thing he thought he'd do once thawed.

Mentally he moves around some of his timetables and plans.  He’ll have to find new help today.  Establish who’s loyal to him.  To Oswald.  To both of them.  And correct any misbehavior commenced in his absence.  If it’s like Fries said, and the family of monsters is splintered, its likely Didi’s fault and he’s the only one who can fix it.

Speaking of monsters, thinks Ed as he enters the kitchen.  “What are you doing here?”

A man he recognized from the party covered in scales is sitting at the table, eating raw meat.  He looks up Ed with his mouth covered in blood.  “Morning Boss.  You forget about Falcone?”

Ed lies, “No.  Of course, I didn’t.  Falcone.  This is important.”  He supposes if Falcone and Penguin are still on the outs, then he’d need muscle like the thing before him.  "I’ll be ready in a minute.  I just have to make Oswald some breakfast.”

The man burps up rudely and beats his chest.  Ed takes several steps back and the man grins at him with sharp teeth.  “Apologies.  Little air bubble.  I just wanted to say, Mama already got him for the day.  He’s gonna help get that scrawny guy out of Arkham.”

Ed nods, pretending to know the details already.  “Right, that’s fine.  Let’s go… erm,” he snaps his fingers pretending a temporary lapse in memory.

The man looks cross at him, “Waylon.”

Ed snaps his fingers and points, “Right, of course.  Waylon.  Sorry.  I’ve got a bit of a headache.”

Waylon shifts the entire table and gets up, standing over seven feet tall and menaces Ed.  “Well try not to forget my damn name.  It hurts my feelings.  Especially when I’m the only thing standing between you and Zsasz.”

Ed nods and gingerly pats Waylon on the shoulder.  “Sorry, I’ll keep that mind.”  He gives the monster a nervous grin and rushes out the door.  He can’t be bothered to ask why Zsasz would be mad at him personally but he could hazard a guess.  And if it has anything to do with Didi ‘bludgeoning good friends' of Oswald, then he’d likely need the protection. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-13-18

Ed spends almost an hour standing just behind ‘Killer Croc’ while he hammers out the details for an embargo he had no idea about.  Falcone shakes his hand and Ed makes an effort to keep his eyes off Zsasz and his bandaged-wrapped head.  He looks like a cracked egg, and Ed wants to laugh, but without his counterfeit’s super-strength and ability to not feel pain… he rather not risk it.  A simple nod in the man’s direction has everyone reaching for their guns. 

Zsasz sneers at him and everyone seems to hold their breath.  He points his middle finger and turns away and the room seems to relax.  Waylon punches Ed on the shoulder.  “I’m glad he let it go.  Between you me, that little bald guy terrifies me.”

The shady gathering breaks up and Waylon escorts Ed, back ‘home’ to report.  Home, in this case, turns out to be Fish’s new base of operation.

Abandoned infrastructure too close to factories for anyone to be interested in housing development, has turned into a monster paradise. 

Ed recognizes some his more normal looking cellmates from Arkham and shakes hands with the guy who gave him a fly swatter instead of a bug zapper.  Smiles at the girl with bobby pins.  Waylon abandons him at the entrance and Ed is left to navigate on his own.  He follows the sound of laughter to a caved in office.  The space is decorated like a ballroom, and Ed likes how it's shiny and chaotic, and very in theme.  There are tables and chairs everywhere, but the center.  There, Fish sits is in a big embroidered chair by a large makeshift grill covered in meat.  She’s dressed casually for the morning in a red silk robe with her hair still wrapped. And between her knees sits Oswald on a little pillow.  He’s down to his shirt and vest and allowing her to brush his hair while his nails dry in black polish.  He looks up at Ed and smiles but doesn’t move.

Fish looks at him and rolls her eyes, “I suppose the deal is done with that old retiree?”

Ed nods, “Yes, ma’am.”  Ed remembers his last encounter and can’t imagine Fish allowing Didi to be disrespectful.  So, he minds his manners.

Oswald starts to shift and she slaps him lightly on the side of his head, “Boy!”

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly.  “But the chicken needs turning.”

Ed takes off his jacket and hangs on a chair.  “I’ll do it.”  He smiles and walks over to the grill.  There’s an ugly tattered apron nearby and he puts it on.  Several of the monstrous housemates wander over and eye him as he flips the meat.  “I see everyone is ready for breakfast.”

Fish sighs, “I see you are trying to change it up.”  She gives him a slow look up and down.  “I don’t see anything different.  And now you don’t want to be called Didi anymore.  It sounds like you’re having some kind of crisis… boy!”  Oswald flinches as she pulls his hair.  She smoothed the damage over and leans down to kiss his forehead.  “My bad.  That was my fault wasn’t it?”

“Just a knot,” says Oswald with a strange smile.  He turns his head and holds still while she continues.

“All the same.  I just hate thinking of somebody hurting my poor little Penguin.”  Ed looks down at Oswald’s leg but doesn’t say anything.  She smoothed the hair down at the front of his head and pats his shoulder for him to get up.  When Oswald is standing over her, she looks up and smiles.  “There he is.  Remember the first time, I said you should spike that mop of yours.”  He nods dopily and she smiles wider.  Then she looks over to Ed.  “If you let my meat burn, staring…”

Ed looks back at the task at hand.  He turns everything that needs more time and Oswald walks over to help him.  It’s like working in the soup kitchen, the crowd comes in and Oswald and Ed plate their food.  Fish keeps her seat while men and women and kids report to her.  Oswald grins and jokes with some of them.  Some give Ed a hard stare.  Others smile at him like fellow conspirators.  He notes who they are so they can be dealt with later.  When everyone is satisfied they were fed fairly Ed takes off the apron.  He and Oswald follow as Fish gets up and heads for a dusty flight of stairs. 

They enter what must be her own rooms, clean, stylized, and freshly painted.  A king size, four poster bed and racks of clothes outside what appears to be a room remodeled as a walk-in closet.  She sits down at her vanity and unwraps her hair.  Oswald returns the favor, and helps her brush and sweep her curls into order.  She pats him on the hand, “Thank you, baby.  Now, don’t you want to want to know how Hugo is coming along in the Dollhouse?  They had no trouble hiding in the basement when you tipped Gordon off.  The next phase is underway and...”  She turns around and points at Ed, “You’re overdue for a checkup.  I’m sending for the helicopter on Friday. We'll take the cargo and _you_.   Don’t think you can talk your way out of it.  I will find your ass and drag it there myself if I have to, understand.”

Ed nods, “I wouldn’t dream of running from you, ma’am.”

She rolls her eyes, “Don’t be so damn _fake_.  You’re spoon-feeding some bullshit to Penguin, and it isn’t working on me.  I don’t have any doubts about you being a snake.  Just know that.”

Ed nods again while Oswald flops on the bed and admires his nails.  He can’t be certain, but he’s sure Oswald is following old patterns.  Love is one his weaknesses.  And here he is, happy to love a living, breathing mother again.

* * *

 

After Fish is dressed and finished fussing over Oswald’s appearance, Ed and Oswald leave in an armored car.  Ed adds gaining her trust as an integral part of cementing his plans.  It’ll be difficult, but he thinks he could manage.  She gave them an extensive list of errands to finish by Friday, including kidnapping and murder.

Oswald spends most of their drive out to Ivy’s estate yelling on a cell phone.  “Incompetence!”  He hangs up and looks to Ed, “Can you believe that?!  I gave them the smallest, simplest task to complete and still, they fail!”  He starts to beat the door with the cell phone and Ed has to reach over and take it from him.  Its cracked, and but he can salvage it later. 

“This city has a deficit of decent talent.  You know that, Oswald.”

“Yes, but they could at least pretend to have two brain cells between them!”

Ed gathers this much from a note in Didi’s datebook.  The Iceberg Lounge is still only 78% complete.  They were supposed to be debuting a new indoor pool, but construction and zoning have been held up.  Aubrey Two forgot to sign something and allowed Harvey Dent to push a loophole declaring the whole thing a safety hazard.

Ed pulls out the datebook and a newer one he just bought, “I’ll have a word with Mr. Dent in person tomorrow.”

“Fine,” sighs Oswald.  “It’d be easier to just swap him too.  I’ll throw the problem at Fish later.”

“No,” says Ed shaking his head, “The clones are a liability on the board.  We don’t need to add any more half-witted pawns on the field.”  Oswald looks at him strangely and Ed clears his throat. “Well not me, of course.  I’m different.  I told you.”

The car stops outside the house and Oswald gets out without replying.  Ed is left following him around to the back where everything is even more overgrown.  The sounds of splashing and girlish screaming draw them to a small opening in the hedges.  Ivy and Firefly are running around like normal teenagers, not criminal associates.  They’re armed with water guns and scream while running circles around a pool covered in lily pads and aquatic plants.  Ed frowns, “Are you sure we need them?  They look like they’re having fun.”

Oswald turns him slowly and raises one brow, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.  Why should they have fun while we’re doing all the work.”

Ed throws his hand up, “They’re just kids, Oswald.  We’re grown men.  We can intimidate little old men on our own.”

Oswald sighs and rolls his eyes, “Stop talking.”  He whistles for the girl’s attention and only Bridgit turns around.  Ed notices how her scar tissue covers her body, without looking tight or uncomfortable as he’d expect.  She looks otherworldly, after almost dying in a fire but was resurrected with her new abilities.

She runs up to them and aims her gun at Ed, “Party Crashers are target practice!” 

Oswald raises his hand, “Don’t you dare.  That’s a very expensive suit and I probably paid for it.”  He steps between Ed and Bridgit, “Go get dressed.  We’re running late.”

She stomps her foot and pouts, “But we didn’t even play Marco Polo.”

Ivy walks up with her arms crossed and pouting as well, “It’s too hot outside to be dressed.  I won’t do it.”

Oswald snaps his fingers and points to the house, “March, young ladies.  You have an obligation to me and you will fill it.  Or else.”

Bridgit tilts her chin up and points the gun at Oswald, “Or else what?”

“Or else, I’m canceling Victor’s Ice Cream party,” hisses Oswald.  Both girls scream and run away at the same time.  Ed stares at Oswald with a gaping mouth he while flicks something green on his jacket.  “Kids,” he shrugs.  “You have to know how to talk to them.”

“If only…”  Ed's not sure where the strange paternal need to see Oswald grow old and sit on the porch yelling a gaggle of grandkids comes from, but he shakes his head.  “Well.  You do, apparently.  Fine Work, Oswald.”

Once the girls are dressed like the young women they pretend to be, they’re still frowning and quiet in the back of the car.  Ed shares the front seat with the hired driver and looks back at them, “Don’t worry.  Every night will be a pool party in few days. And if you’re good, we’re getting doughnuts.”  He turns around and ignores them making faces in the rearview mirror.

* * *

 

They arrive at the mark’s home and Ed watches as Judge Rudolph the honorable reaches his brownstone.  He’s back from a long vacation in Tahiti and Ed knows he’s hard to intimidate even with all corruption in Gotham.  Which makes him a potentially entertaining mark.

Ed gets out the car first and walks up to door just after the Judge gets inside.  The man won’t be settled and he counts on that when the door opens.  “Judge Apatow?”

The man frowns, “I’m sorry? No.  I’m Judge Rene Rudolph. You have the have the wrong man.”

“No, I don’t,” says Ed smiling.  “Just making sure.”  He punches Rudolph in the nose and the man falls back over his own bags.  Ed steps over him and drags him inside and shuts the door.  He’s certain no one saw, even though it’s in the middle of the day.  Ed moves to the home's alarm system and rolls his eyes.  “I bet its 0000.”  He punches in the number and sure enough, a little voice welcomes the deactivation.  Ed sighs and makes his way to the back of the house and opens the yard door for his cohorts.

They settle Rudolph in his office, tied up in a chair and gagged with a tube sock.

Ivy finds it especially funny and giggles while dabbing her wrist and neck with perfume.  “Are we killing him?  With a sock in his mouth?”  Rudolph starts to struggle against his bonds.

Bridgit checks her flamethrower.  “It won’t matter how it looks when everything’s roasted.”  She fires a shot in the air and Rudolph nearly tips himself over. 

Ed steadies the man and stands behind him with a hand on his shoulder.  “Easy, there Rene.  We’re just here to talk.  There shouldn’t be any killing today.  Right ladies?”  Neither of the girls respond.

Bridgit smiles down at her gun while Ivy plays with a letter opener on the desk, slicing a scratch across the desk, “Mahogany.  It’s not fair when good trees have to die for someone’s furniture.”

Rudolph turns out to be a screamer.  Ed thinks of it as the soundtrack to their little family outing.

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

Ed sleeps well that night.  They had a full day of planning, intimidation, and murder.  The girls were tuckered out by the time made it back to Oswald’s home.  Waylon and Victor each scooped them up and took them to their rooms.  Ed and Oswald had a shared a drink in the study and retired separately in good spirits.  Ed didn’t dream of figment Oswald and woke to feel recharged.

Then the screaming started.

Ed jumped out bed and ran to Oswald’s room only to find Butch at the door.  “Move.”

Another scream and Ed’s sure that it’s Oswald.  He tries to push Butch out the way, but the man doesn’t budge.  “Stay put, pencil neck.  They’re merely renegotiating.  This is a real people problem.  Not your thing.”

Ivy comes down the hall rubbing her eyes and yawning, in bright pink pajamas with little unicorns.  “Why are you making so much noise?”

“Business, Cupcake.  Make yourself scarce.  In fact, make me a coffee.”

Ivy stares at him like he grew a second head.  Ed smirks, thinking he’s about to discover why Oswald insists on keeping her so close.  The girl marches forward and pokes Butch in the chest, “I’m not leaving Penguin.”  She scratches him on the neck and Butch laughs in her face.

He looks to Ed, “Is she serious?”   He pushes her back with little effort, “Go back to bed, kitten.  This doesn’t… doesn’t… doesn’t….”  His eyes roll back he falls to the floor like a sack of bricks.

Ivy steps over him and opens the door.  They find Oswald on the floor with Tabitha’s whip around his neck and Barbara perched on his bed while holding a bloody pocket square to her head.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Let him go,” says Ed.  Ivy stares down Tabitha with no more than her nails and pajamas.

Tabitha is unimpressed but Barbara snaps her fingers, “Let him up.  I didn’t know Didi was here.”  She scowls at Ed, “Maybe you can answer my question.  What the hell is Mama Fish doing snooping around my territory?”

Ed sighs and pinches his nose.  “It’s too early for this much stupidity.”

“Answer the question!”

Ed slams the door shut and nods to Ivy.  He cracks his knuckles at Barb and Tabitha.  “I’m not here to answer your question.  Let him go, and I won’t leave a big a mess behind for Butch to clean up.”

Tabitha yanks the whip harder but Barbara jumps up, “It’s no problem, Didi.  We’ll just let ourselves out.  Right.”  She gets up and limps to the door, passing Ivy while the younger woman sticks her tongue out.

Ed moves over and lets her pass.  Tabitha rolls her eyes, “For Christ’s sake, I can't believe we’re going without an explanation.”  She pulls away and Oswald takes a deep breath on the floor.  Ivy runs over to check on him while the Sirens pick up Butch and walk away.

Ed slams the door once they’re out it, “What was that?”

“You tell me,” rasps Ed.  “They seemed to think, you’d be fine with it.  Didi.”

“Don’t call me that…”

“Oh, shut up.”  He pulls away from Ivy and heads for his bathroom.  “I’ve got too much to do today.  Make sure they pay for this, or I’ll assume you had something to do with it!”  He slams the door and leaves two very confused colleagues behind.

Ivy shrugs, “Whatever.  At least I know this polish works almost instantly.  If I got the dose right, he might die.” She smiles while looking down at her nails.

* * *

 

Breakfast that morning is tense.  Ed makes everyone pancakes and Waylon, Fries, Pike, and Ivy all sit around the table while Oswald sits back and looks through resumes.  He throws the papers on the floor and sits back sighing.  “I hate this.  Waylon?”

“Yeah, boss?”

“There’s a tiny, ghoulish old Russian woman who can almost cook like my mother.  She ran away from home and needs some convincing to come back.  Go fetch her and tell her my dinner better be ready by nine tonight.  And try not to give her a heart attack.”

Waylon frowns, “What about breakfast.”

Oswald throws a pancake at his face, “Take it to go!”

Waylon gets up, knocking over the table and everything on it.  Everyone scatters, leaving the mess.  Ed rolls his eyes and throws down his apron.  “You don’t need to send Croc after Olga.  That’s a bit overkill.”

“I don’t care!”  He gets up and leaves the room without touching his plate.

Ed sighs and follows him.  They both stop in the hall when they see little Selina Kyle. 

“Where’s Ivy?”

Ed frowns at her, “How’d you get in here?”

She rolls her eyes and speaks slower.  “I forgot.  You’re _new_.  Where. Is. Ivy.”

Oswald clears his throat and calls the girls back.  They come running down the stairs.  Ivy rushes forward and hugs Selina, “Did you find ‘em?”

She shakes her head and looks up at Bridgit as she slowly comes down.  “Whassup.”

Bridgit smiles and ducks her head.  “Whassup.  You look nice, Selina.  Sorry I tried to kill you and made you my servant and stuff.”

Selina shrugs.  “Whatever.  I like your eye makeup.  The wings are fierce.”  She nods coolly and turns back to Ivy.  Ed looks to where Bridgit is fidgeting and blushing and smiles.  He would call the whole thing cute, but he’d probably be set on fire.

Oswald throws up a hand, “What do you want, young lady?”

She gives Ivy a sad look before turning to Oswald with her chin up.  “I need help.  My friend is still missing.”

“I recall.”

“What’s going on,” asks Bridgit.

Ivy grins, “Bruce Wayne disappeared.  He’s her boyfriend.”

“Shut up,” says Selina.  “He’s not my boyfriend.  He’s a friend.  And this is important.  I’ve looked everywhere and the only leads I got keep pointing to things… I just can’t go in there alone.”

Bridgit gets frosty on the staircase, “You want us to help you find some billionaire?  Rich people like that don’t care about us, Selina.”

“What do you call that?”  Selina points to Oswald.

Bridgit steps down, “A millionaire.  It's not the same thing.  Duh.”

“Don’t be so stupid, Bridgit.”

“Don’t call me stupid!”

“I’ll…”

Oswald claps his hands, “Ladies!  That’s enough!”  He steps up to Selina and gives her a sincere look, “Fish still talks about you.  You have immense potential in her eyes.”

Selina pulls away and looks at his knee, “Yeah, and did potential get your knee broke?”

Oswald grimaces then grabs her by the collar and drags her to the door.  He opens it with one hand while she tries to pull free.  “You should be more respectful to your elders.”  He shoves her out and when she tries to rush forward, he plucks her on the nose and looks back to Ivy and Bridgit.  “You’re both free to do what you want, of course.  But I don’t want any more stray cats in the house.”  He slams the door.

Ivy rushes forward immediately, “Not cool, Pengy.  She’s my friend.  And she has a point.  Fish tried to kill me.  And made me this… this…”  She growls and grabs a bag and runs to the door.

Bridgit rolls her eyes and follows Ivy, “I’ll go but I’ll come back if this is boring.  I don’t really feel like dealing with some chick’s boy drama, anyway.”

Ed watches them leave and sighs, “Well.  A full day ahead.  Ta-ta for now, Oswald.”

“Where are you going?”

Ed grabs his hat and an umbrella and kisses Oswald on the nose, “Big day.  I’m going to see a district attorney about a pool, remember.”  He grins and leaves Oswald in the doorway.

* * *

 

The forecast called for a summer rain shower, but it storms like a hurricane.  Ed starts out at Dent’s offices, expecting to find the man hard at work.

“You’re not the Harvey I’m looking for…” 

“No shit,” says Bullock.  He’s drenched and still eating some kind of soggy sandwich.  “When it rains, it pours right?”  He grins at Ed and then points, “Hey!  It’s true!  You shaved the supervillain goatee off.  Nice.  You look like your old self...”  He gives Ed a look over and frowns.  “Not saying much, but still.  How ‘bout you stay put while I call in a squad car?”

“I was exonerated on charges by Mayor Aubrey.  You can’t arrest me for assisting in a government operation.”

“That’s a wad and you know it, I know it, and the whole damn city knows it. You psychopath.”

“I’m not a psychopath,” grins Ed.  “I have a certificate.”

“I’ll tell ya what you can do with that paper, Edward.  You could…”

Ed raises his umbrella, “I could what, Harvey?”

“Is that supposed to scare me?  One of your boy’s umbrellas?”

“No,” grins Ed.  “One of mine.”

The door to Dent’s office opens and Jim Gordon walks out.  He sees the umbrella and taps it down gently, “No firearms on the premises, Ed.”

“What!”

Ed swings the umbrella and hooks it in the crook of his elbow.  “Lovely to see you again Jim.  Mr. Harvey Dent.  I need to have a word with you in private.”

Dent’s lip curls, “I’ve got nothing to say to you.  You and your cronies are going to answer to the law in whatever way I can manage.”

“It’s a damn pool.”

“It’s a health hazard,” Dent puts on his raincoat, “I’m going with them to the GCPD.  Maybe you’d like to come along, Riddler.”

Harvey points his sandwich at Ed, “Yeah!  Come on, we’ll give you a comfy ride in the back of the car.  Lunch is my treat.”  He smiles with food in his mouth and Ed almost gags.

“No thank you.  Another time then,” he starts to turn away, already recalculating how to deal with Harvey without help from Fish, but Jim runs up to him.

“Hey wait a minute, Ed.  You got anything for me.  About Fish or Hugo?  We checked out this private island of Dr. Francis Dulmacher and found it stripped bare.  There’s no telling where Fish is stashing Hugo.  Unless you know now, of course.”

“Can’t say that I do… but.”  He thinks about his appointment on Friday, “I will.  I’ll call you, Jim.  And get to me before they do.  Cause if they do, I’m going to be on ice again, and that’s the end of you seeing any cooperation from someone wearing my face.  But I’ll tell you this.  Whatever you found on the surface of that island was likely staged to throw you off.  I’d pay it a revisit.”

James pats him on the shoulder and lets him go, with Bullock whining a few feet away.  Ed leaves the building without anyone bothering him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-13-18

The girls don’t come home that evening.  But Waylon returns with Olga.  If Ed thought the woman would be scared, he finds her surprisingly resistant.  Waylon carries her over his shoulder and deposits her in the kitchen.  Olga slaps him in the belly with her hat, “I’m never cooking in this kitchen again!  Nothing for you or your spoiled housemates!”  She veers off into Russian screaming and Waylon sags under it. 

“But I’m hungry?”

“I care not!”  She pounds on him again with the hat until Ed slams a fist on the table. 

“That’s enough.  It’s getting late, and Oswald requests your services.  You’re going do what he asks.  And tomorrow we’re going to do some cleaning.  You can either help me or be the mess I have to clean up.”

He leaves the kitchen and gets back to work.  Oswald doesn’t call or check in and he doesn’t answer Ed’s calls directly.  Ed starts to worry it’s because of the noise that morning.

He gets one call from Barbara asking how to fix things.  Ed looks through all his moving pieces and tells her to send Butch and Tabitha to collect Jervis.  He sends them all the help they’ll need to be successful and then calls the help and tells _them_ to take out Butch and Tabitha as soon as Jervis is secured.  Juggling everyone is complicated.  They’ll either fail and lose Jervis altogether, or the fake cops will botch killing Butch and Tabitha, making them even more angry.  Or everything will work out.

Ed has plans in place for every contingency and sits back in the mansion with a drink and waits for the sun to set.

* * *

Ed waits and waits for Oswald to come home for dinner.  But he doesn’t show up.  So, he calls to the club to find out where he is.  One of the hostesses tells him that Oswald been in his office with Victor Zsasz for a good long while.

Ed throws his phone across the room.  He snaps and grabs a gun and marches out to the car.  The driver is wiping down the hood, “Boss?  You need to go somewhere?”

Ed pushes him aside, “I’ll drive.”

He doesn’t think as he speeds recklessly to the club.  His mind seeing red in a way he can’t control. 

“This isn’t going to help things,” says Oswald beside him.  Ed shakes his head but the figment doesn’t leave.

“He’s right,” says another voice.  Ed looks up at the rearview and sees Kristen in the backseat.  “You’re just going to make things worse if you storm in there.  And you’re not Didi.  The last time you tried to fight Zsasz he had you eating carpet- oh!”  She covers her mouth with her hand and laughs, “Sorry.  That came out wrong.  But you get my drift.”

The figment of Oswald chimes in, “And you’re smarter than this Ed.  What’s the use of playing a long game if you give up early?  That’s what you’re doing.  If you crash the party now and try anything… He’s going to trust you even less.”

“Shut up!”  Ed closes his eyes at red light and waits.  Someone behind blows their horn and he opens to see both figments gone.  He takes a deep breath and slows down.  They’re right of course.  He can’t go in guns-a-blazing.  He must put some thought into what he’ll say or do.  He must be reasonable.  And prove himself more trusting than Didi, more deserving than he was before he thawed.

When Ed gets to the club, he still feels it’s important to put his foot down on this whole Zsasz thing.  If he won’t cheat, then it’s imperative Oswald understand he wants fidelity too.  He counts to ten and tries to focus on being cool and collected before he goes inside.

The doors open, sound and music bombard him.  The hostesses greet him and he shrugs them off.  Two women he doesn’t recognize try to corner him, and he pushes them away.  He marches single-mindedly to the office and opens the door.

It’s not what he thought.  Oswald is not spread out on the desk and they’re both still very dressed.  With Falcone standing by the tank.

Zsasz looks at him and clicks his jaw, “Well.  It was too much to hope you’d keep your distance, eh Didi.”

“Don’t call me that,” starts Ed. 

Falcone taps the glass, “You didn’t mind it before.”

“And now you’re so sensitive,” says Zsasz.  “Does it sound weird to you, Boss?”

Oswald is quiet at his place on the desk.  “It sounds very odd.  And your concerns are noted, gentlemen.  If you’d see you’re way out.  Free drinks at the bar.”

“No need,” says Falcone.  He and Zsasz push pass Ed, “Good evening, Edward.”

Ed shuts the door behind them and rounds the desk.  “What did they want?”

Oswald looks up at him and then the tank.  “They don’t like how much you’ve changed.  It’s making them worried.  I told them I made some adjustments to you.  They weren’t reassured and brought up other concerns.”

“What concerns?”

Oswald gets up and grabs his canes, “Come on upstairs.”

They take the elevator up to the apartment and Oswald steps over the shredded painting and looks down at the cut up couches before going to the bedroom.  There he strips out of his jacket and vest and sits on the bed and stares at Ed.  “I see you haven’t gotten to redecorating yet.”

Ed panics, thinking the game is up.  They know.  Oswald knows.  But why was he brought up here?  He clears his throat, “It’s not a priority right now.  What concerns?”

Oswald bends over to take off his shoes, tucking them neatly beside the bed.  “They’re worried about the change in you, Didi.  I told them it is just an outlier, you think you’re remembering things. And they think it’s a dangerous flaw in the design.  If there’s even a remote chance of that happening to the others, they could revolt.  They could become unpredictable or act outside our interests.  And if that’s possible...”

“I’m not a threat, Oswald.”  Ed shakes head, “Call me Ed.  And remember I care about you.”

“But _he_ didn’t.  Or at least he claimed he didn’t.  And he hurt me and in here, you hurt me… I can’t say it’s not all Ed Nygma.  And if you’ve already gone rogue, I’ll have to put you down with the rest of the project.  He wants me to rope in the Aubreys and other officials and start coming up with plausible reasons for their disappearances.  He suggested I dump you in the sewers now.”

Ed kneels on the floor and crawls over to Oswald and looks up at him, pleading.  “No.  Please.  I don’t want to leave your side.  I’m not going to hurt you again.  Just give me time to get this right.  I promise.  It’ll be worth it.  We can be happy together, Oswald.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

“Then believe me,” Ed squeezes his eyes shut and bows his head, sobbing in Oswald’s lap is not how he thought this would go.

Oswald pets his hair, “Don’t do that.  My mind is not made up yet.  And it won’t be swayed by you acting scared or throwing yourself at me.  Fish is right.  You have to be evaluated.”

It’s against all his instincts but Ed agrees.  He sits up and nods, “Yes.  Okay.  As soon I am, I’ll prove it to you.  I love you, Oswald.  I mean it.”  The words punch out of him and leave him breathless.  He falls forward and cries into Oswald’s shirt.

“I’ve never seen either of you cry like this.”  Oswald holds his head back, “The real Ed blubbered over losing his one-day love affair.  But it wasn’t like this.  I didn’t like seeing it, but I knew he’d get over it.  Tell me, are you faking, Didi?”

Ed shakes his head, “Please.  Please don’t call me that.”

“Are you faking… Ed?”

Ed grabs Oswald’s hands and pulls them to his mouth and kisses his knuckles while sobbing.  He kisses every skinny digit and the scar on Oswald’s hand he never got the story of.  He turns the palms out and bites down a little before kissing both palms and moving them to hold his face.  He sits there rocking while the hands gently comb through his hair. 

Oswald leans down and kisses the top of his head, “Okay stop, stop. I’m not throwing you away.  Not yet.  Come here.”

Ed goes up easily and kisses Oswald on the mouth, “Please,” he says between kisses. “Please…”

Oswald kisses him back and lets Ed push him down on the bed, pinning his hands down by his head.  Ed figures now is the time to lay out concrete perimeters in his head for what constitutes as an unfair ‘distraction’.  Oswald’s not complaining about the kiss but he turns his head and looks to the bathroom.  “Wait, wait.  I’m not drunk enough for this.”

Ed pulls away sharply.  “What?”

Oswald sighs, “You know.  My leg.  Go get my meds and take off your clothes.”  He tries to turn around and climb back up to the night side table, probably to get lube and condoms.

Ed snaps and pulls him back down.  “No, not tonight.  You’re not going to be high or drunk.  I’m taking care of you.”

Oswald raises a brow, looking unconvinced.  “I don’t get hard when I’m in pain, _Ed_.  You know that.”  He looks at Ed like he’s gone stupid.  “Go get my pills, or nothing is happening!”

Ed backs up from the bed and lets Oswald crawl up to the center.  But he doesn’t go anywhere near the bathroom.  He strips off his jacket and tie then snaps it in his hands while looking down at Oswald.  Oswald goes still.  And Ed smirks at him, climbs up and undoes Oswald’s belt and pulls it loose. “I’m not getting the pills.  Do you want me to stop?”

Oswald looks down at his leg, “...mmm.  Well.  Maybe not yet.”

Ed hums feeling as though some of the power Didi wrested from his name is returning.  Even if he is playing a part, it’s still him doing this.  Oswald looks down at him, his left thigh jumping under Ed’s hand as it slides up and settles over the pant front.  He unzips it and decides that adjusting his rules means not taking pleasure from his deceit but giving it freely to Oswald.  Broad, but limiting in a way that seems less like cheating.

“Well… We can try your way first and um…”

“If you’re hurt or uncomfortable.  You stop me.  Pull my hair or say a safe word.”

Oswald, “Both.”

Ed grins, liking that answer very much, “Okay.  Say Red Jello and yank my hair.  But ah, hair pulling is definitely encouraged anyway.”

Oswald yanks a little as Ed pulls him free of his underwear and licks the head of his cock.  It hardens in his grasp and he doesn’t waste time working up the nerve to do something new.  He bends and takes several inches in his mouth, flattens his tongue and works his way up and down the shaft.  He pulls off to check on Oswald and sees him staring down at him in shock.  “Oh.”

Ed grins and does it again and again, sucking and licking.  Experimenting and learning the taste while flicking his tongue over the head and slit while stroking Oswald.  Oswald comes and almost blacks out while Ed licks up streaks on his hand.  He climbs the bed and starts sucking on Oswald’s neck while stroking him a few more times.   Oswald tries to reciprocate, opens his pants and reaches in, but Ed cants his hips.  He rolls over to the side and strokes himself while kissing Oswald in apology, “No.  It’s not about me.”  He leaves himself hard and opens Oswald shirt up and kisses down his chest.

He pulls another orgasm out of Oswald by brushing his fingertips on the sensitive cock, biting and sucking his nipples and kissing him deeply.  Oswald sighs and keens and melts into the bed, “…That was.  Wow.”  He passes out on Ed’s shoulder with a grin.  Ed retreats to the bathroom to take care of himself, longing for the day he won’t feel he should deny himself.  It’ll come soon enough, he thinks.  He’ll reveal everything, and Oswald will know and remember that it was Ed that made him feel good.  Not Didi, not Zsasz.  He cleans up and joins Oswald in the bed.

Oswald is deep asleep with a particularly goofy look on his face.  Ed strips them both down and spoons behind Oswald with the lights out.  Ed sees a copy of himself, standing in the shadows and sneering at them on the bed.

Ed merely smiles at it and holds his Penguin closer.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-13-18
> 
> Man why didn’t anyone say "Hey old lady your doohickey is autocorrecting Ivy to Ivey for some reason, you might wanna fix that"
> 
> like 8 chapters ago. 
> 
> *Fish glare* You're all in timeout  
>   
> 

The next couple of days go smoothly.  Ed closes the rooms over the Iceberg Lounge for exhaustive redecorating, aiming to make a space more comfortable for them to cohabitate.  Tabitha and Butch managed to escape with Tetch, and never learned the officers’ betrayal was ordered by Ed.  They think it’s some kind of setup from Fish.  All while Fish is quietly tipped off that Tabitha killed the Penguin’s mother, and has eyes set for his surrogate.  Bullock has the sense to put Harvey Dent under police protection.  So, Ed sees to it the attorney is loaded down with petty cases.  Lots of suspicious characters go in out of his office and eyes are off the one person hired to deal with him.  Ed loves hearing about all the chaos a few well-placed phone calls can cause.  It puts him in a fine mood, even with the clock ticking down until Friday.

Ivy reports that she has followed Selina and Bridgit to a private airstrip where they finally caught a glimpse of the real Bruce Wayne exiting a plane with a strange old man.  Or at least they think it’s the real Wayne.  They decided not to engage and tipped off Gordon and the boy’s guardian.  Ed’s surprised the girls thought forward and regrouped without being caught.  But all three have potential to be potent players on his board, so he’s glad for it.

The mansion is lighter after a thorough airing out.  Ed discovered a great deal of filth left behind from the monsters’ interim stay.  There was some kind of party and Oswald let a lot happen while drunk on power and… alcohol.  Ed discovers some rooms were being avoided for a reason.  He explains to Olga that they simply can’t put half-chewed human parts, charred human parts, and basically anything human and moldy in the trash.  He melts a great deal of the evidence in acid and dumps it in the sewers. 

After the place is cleaned up, he has maintenance see to some of Ivy’s overgrowth, despite Oswald declaring, ‘but I like it’ at the last minute.  The house looks more like a proper manor again by Thursday night and Ed sighs with a job well done.

All the parts are moving into place and Ed has moments where he’s full of anxiousness.  But he keeps telling himself it’ll be worth it.  He’s had a hint of what life would be like without struggling to maintain a lie or destroy someone he cares about.

Ed and Oswald made peace with sleeping together at night in the master bedroom.  There’s little more than snuggling and kissing.  Some petting and the odd inexperienced, attempt at fellatio, but Oswald is brighter for it.  No more dark rings under his eyes and melancholy disposition.  It’s so close to those good days before Isabella, and Ed regrets the time missed and circumstances that sent them careening on a path of mutual devastation.

On Friday morning, Ed wakes up shirtless in Oswald’s arms.  The night before they talked and laughed. Ed told Oswald he’d make a great father someday and Oswald was quiet.  Oswald told Ed he could see running for office again or watching Ed take a bigger role, he’d vote for Mayor Nygma.  Or even Senator Nygma.  Nygma for president.  Having that kind of power has never appealed to Ed, but he appreciated the sentiment.  Ed resisted telling riddles he thought Oswald would appreciate and they both avoided the subject of today. 

Ed buries his face in Oswald’s side and wishes time would go still.  But Oswald wakes up and rakes his fingers through Ed’s hair.  “Morning, you.”  He pulls Ed up to the pillows and kisses him on the cheek.  “There’s something to be said for this abstinence thing.  Never mind the fact I was never a horny teenager or lust-driven adult.  Absence makes the heart grow fonder?”  He beats a steady rhythm on Ed’s chest. 

Ed hums with it, “Mmhm.  And you could obviously use the rest, old man.”

“Whoa!” Oswald pinches him and shoves him playfully, “How dare you?  I have you know, I lived a good healthy life before you.  I’m in fine shape, despite my leg.  And the kidney.  And the liver.  And that ‘ _is it chlamydia_ ’ scare- oh my god!  Why are you such a whore?”  He punches Ed this time a little less playfully, “I could count on one hand all my lovers and … hell, you’re two of them.”

Ed’s discomforted thinking of how well that parallels his own experience, “Me too.”  He says carelessly. 

Before he can catch himself, Oswald laughs, “Oh very funny, Casanova.” Ed laughs with him, and subtly moves Oswald’s hand from his heart while it tries to jackhammer out of his chest.  Oswald persists, stroking fingers through his sparse chest hair instead.   His fingers go still and he frowns at Ed, “I didn’t even notice when you stopped shaving this thin bit scraggle off.  You’re usually so vain.”

Ed barks out an even more awkward laugh flips Oswald around in his arms. Oswald goes with it, laughing until he’s on his side.  Ed bites Oswald on the ear, “You call me vain?  Mr. Matching Nightcap?”  He laughs and hopes the whole matter is buried and wonders why in God’s name would the counterfeit shave his chest hair?  He barely has any!  That doesn’t sound like an ideal way to waste the morning. At All.

Oswald is still giggling, unaware he’s almost caught Ed twice.  “My father gave me that cap.  It’s one my most favorite things in the whole world.  Don’t make fun.”

Ed kisses his neck in apology and sighs, “You are a strangely sentimental creature.  I suppose I’ll let it go.  But the shoes?”  He tickles Oswald under the ribs and while he laughs Ed looks at the corner of the room and again sees himself, or perhaps Didi, staring hatefully at them.  Ed sneers at the shadow thinking, ‘ _back off!  He’s mine!  I won and you’re dead.  And when I’m finished today, that will be it for Strange’s lab_.’  He bites down on Oswald’s shoulder and has him moaning and squirming, changing the atmosphere from playful to electric.  And the shadow disappears.

But then the door slams open.

Oswald rolls his eyes, “I’m getting a better lock for that door.  Woodblock post, that only Vikings could knock down.”

Fish and Zsasz walk in both looking annoyed with the sight of them in bed, but probably for different reasons.  Fish waves a hand, “Careful what you wish for, love.  Vikings would burn down what they couldn’t enter.  Now up, up, up.  Long day planned.  My ride just refueled.”  She comes over to the bed while Zsasz stands in the doorway.

Oswald whines while she drags him out of Ed’s arms, “We’d have been down in a few minutes.”

Fish looks down at where they’re still dressed below the waist and pats Oswald on the cheek, “You poor thing.”

Ed growls at the remark and ignores Zsasz snickering.  He puts on his robe, “You mind letting us get ready in peace?”

“Ah, there you are,” says Fish.  She points at Ed, “No different than before really.  The answer’s no.  I’m here to play dress up with my favorite doll,” she snaps her fingers and two of her girls comes in with suits.  “Now what should it be for today.”

Oswald points happily at one girl, “I like that violet chevron.”

Fish glows happily, “I agree.  Zsasz, throw the loser out the window.”

One girl starts preemptively screaming and they all laugh at her while Ed rolls his eyes.

Zsasz grins, while she calms down.   “I wouldn’t throw a lady out this window for losing a bet.”  He claps her on the shoulder, and she nervously laughs too.  “I’m a gentleman.  We’ll go higher up.  You won’t feel a thing off the roof.”  The woman starts screaming and Zsasz grabs her by the hair and drags her out.

The other woman lays out her winning suit and backs out after them.

“What was that?”  asks Oswald.

Fish inspects the bed before gingerly sitting on it, “What, the bet?  That wide-eyed whelp said you needed _professional_ help.  I told her, that’s funny.  Because you had me, personally grooming you for years.  We made a little wager on whose suit you’d like best.  And bingo, you picked my favorite.”

Ed watches Oswald kiss her cheek and say thank you.  Whatever Oswald feels for her seesaws between loving admiration and outright rage.  And right now, Ed can’t stand there and watch things swing to loving mother and son.  He hurries to the door, “I’ll meet you downstairs, Oswald.”

* * *

 

Ed dresses quickly and grabs his phone.  He sends one text to Gordon and one to Clayface then breaks the phone, tears out the sim card and flushes it down the toilet.  Just in case.

When he gets downstairs, Fish and Zsasz have Oswald looking dimmer, despite all the work Ed put in cheering him up.  Ed smiles at Oswald and goes with them willingly.  The ride to the landing pad is quiet and Ed focuses on keeping his head straight.  For once, he wants his plan to go smoothly without Oswald outmaneuvering him.

Ed notes there’s no one else coming, Fish climbs up to the pilot’s seat and Oswald follows her.  Zsasz handcuffs Ed behind his back and leads him to the backseat.  Ed just lets it happen, and just as he’s about to comment on their convoluted procedures when he realizes he has a seatmate.  “Foxy?”

Lucius rolls his eyes, “Please stop calling me that.”

Ed is completely surprised to see him, “What are you doing here?”

Lucius somehow rolls his eyes harder and sighs, “I’m being kidnapped, Edward.  What are you doing here?”

Ed couldn’t answer that truthfully in present company, so he settles for a smile and saying, “Proving my love.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edit 4-14-18

Ed has several ideas of how this can all go down.

But just because he planned and did the math doesn’t mean things will turn out his way.  If fortune favors the bold, it’s completely enamored with Oswald.

Ed reflects on how his goals have changed or rather reverted since he first admitted to himself his feelings for Oswald.  He’s more than a little desperate to show some card in his fantastic winning hand.  If only he could leave a clue…

“Hey, Foxy?”

Lucius pretends not to hear him over the helicopter, but Ed persists.

“What is…”

“No.”

“I haven’t even told you yet.”

“I don’t care, Edward.  If you tell me a riddle, I’m jumping out of this helicopter.”

Ed rolls his eyes and sits back, “Fine.  You don’t have to be so dramatic.”

While flying, Fish mentions how she gained the skill.  “I used to be you, Zsasz.  Five years of being an international top gun. And I looked fine doing it.   You know Falcone used to call me his little Butterfly Ranger?  Isn’t that absurd?  Do you like my new bird, Penguin?”  She laughs but Oswald looks a little green in his seat.  Ed can’t tell if it’s from motion sickness or something else.

They land on an island, miles away from Gotham, but close enough for someone to heed his rescue call in time.  Ed kept an eye out for a patrol following them, but he couldn’t tell from so high up.  Zsasz lets everyone out the front, “I expect you to be on your best behavior, Dee-man.  And Mr. Fox, I expect you to cooperate.  If everyone’s on the same page, we can go inside.”

A half-dozen men with muscles on their muscles circle them as they get out.  Ed’s led away roughly in one direction while Lucius another.

Ed calls out, “Aren’t you coming, Oswald?”

Oswald leans on his cane and shakes his head, “Not today, Didi.”

Ed’s face falls, “Don’t call me that!”  He snaps and starts to struggle.  He breaks free of them long enough to turn around and scream, “Hey!  Hey!  Oswald!”  It’s hard to keep his composure if he loses his trump card.  That being Oswald’s love of him.  But it’s failed before. 

Oswald lets the men carry Ed away like some common test subject.  Ed only remembers that he is standing in for one when they get inside the facility.  Hugo walks right up to him, “Go easy.  We don’t want any bruising.”  He smiles at Ed while shining a light in each eye.  “Ah-ha.  Well.  I can’t say I’m surprised.  Hello, Didi.  I hear there’s been some deterioration.”

“Nothing is wrong, with me.”

Hugo gives him pitying look, “So often the ill will simply ignore the symptoms.  But you’re not fine, my boy.  As I see clearly.”  He turns on his heel and the men drag Ed to a gurney.  He’s strapped down and blood is taken.  Then wheeled into an elevator.  The doors open and Ed hides the shock of seeing Terri Eckhart and a tall, thin man in a white coat.

Terri shines a light in his eye like Hugo and backs away, shaking her head.

“What,” says Ed.  “What’s wrong?”

The thin man pats his knee, “It’s nothing to worry about, son.  We’ll get you all fixed up in no time.  But first I’d like a full evaluation.”

Ed is pushed down a hall and left in a room similar to the one he remembers before he was frozen.  It’s all white and locked in.  He’s left for a long time, guarded by two of the orderlies.  Ed knocks his head against the bed and hopes some part of his plan is working.  It wouldn’t do for him to be caught so soon.

After a while, Terri comes in, clacking her heels and staring at her clipboard.  “Get him down and undressed, please.”

Ed doesn’t struggle this time.  “Please just tell me what’s wrong?”

She gives him a sad look, “The markers in your eyes are gone.  Without them, we can’t tell a copy from an original.  And knowing your original is on ice, well it only means one thing.  I’m sorry, Didi.”

“No,” Ed shakes his head.  “I’m fine.  I’m better than fine.  Believe me.”

She looks unconvinced, “You must be deteriorating.  It sometimes looks like being close to a normal human, but for your kind, it means eventual death.  We may be able to reverse it with treatment.”  She gives him a fake smile.  And that makes Ed very worried. 

“I need to see Oswald.  This isn’t like the others.  I’m different.  Believe me.”  The men strip him down and leave him naked.  Terri pokes and prods at him with a tight face then pulls a pen knife out her lab coat pocket.  Ed leans away but she quickly jabs him in the side.  “Ah!”

Terri frowns, “Oh dear.  Are you feeling pain, Didi?”

Ed shakes his head while holding his side.  “No,” he lies through his teeth.  “I just don’t like being stabbed!”

Terri slices him again and he starts lashing out but the men grab his arms and strap him back to the bed.  She shakes her head and takes a note on her clipboard, all while still holding a bloody knife.  “You seem weaker, Didi.  Are you comfortable?”

Ed looks down at his bleeding side and back at her with a scowl.  “What do you think?”

She finishes her notes and walks out without another word.

* * *

Ed’s not sure how much time passes, but he thinks it’s been an hour since he was tied up.  The tall man and Hugo come for him and dismisses the guards.

Hugo grins, “Didi, I hear you’re _remembering_ things.  How interesting.  Can you tell me about it?”

“Yes,” says the man.  “I’d like very much to hear about it before we scan you.”  He puts on rubber gloves and moves over to Ed’s side to patch his cuts.

Ed feels faint with blood loss but he’s sure neither of them has anything good in mind, even while healing him.  “Where’s Oswald?”

Hugo laughs, “Well.  That sounds familiar.”  He leans on the bed and looks Ed in the eyes.  “I’m curious how you compare to the other now.  But going by the first sample, it’s as if there’s no difference… how very peculiar.”

Ed swallows and looks to the man patching him up, “What other… Ed?”

“The real one of course,” says the man, “Coming in by sea takes a little longer.  Bigger cargo.”

Ed takes a deep breath and lays back, “You are making a big mistake.  There’s nothing wrong me.  I want to see Oswald.  Now.”

“Oh my, Dr. Dulmacher,” says Hugo, “I think he’s gotten a little above himself.  Living on the mainland does that.  I once had an Aubrey tell me he’d have me fired.”  He starts laughing and Dulmacher follows suit.

“That’s nothing.  Would you believe one of the little Penguin dolls said he’d gut me?  They’re all equally horrible.”

Ed sighs, “I’m not a doll.  I’m me… I remember things.  I’m different.  And I’m the one Oswald wants.  Let me see him.  Now.”  He strains against the bonds but it does little to free him.

Dulmacher and Strange look unimpressed but back off whispering.  They leave Ed alone and he wonders how much time he has until Didi is thawed and they realize he’s not only dead but a clone.

Then the last thing he expects to happen, happens.

The door opens and in walks Jervis Tetch, wearing a paper hat and blood-stained scrubs.  He carries a set of keys in one hand and a scalpel in the other. He hurries inside and closes the door.  He ducks and crawls over to the side of Ed’s bed.  “Hello, friend.”  He grins up at Ed manically, “I would not recommend the food in this establishment.”

Ed looks back at the door, “What happened to the guards?”

Tetch stares at his naked body before recoiling and fetching a white sheet.  He throws it over Ed’s chest.  “That’s better.”  Not minding the rest of Ed’s exposure.  “Oh, the men at the door!  They were such a bore.  I did what was done and it was so much fun!”  He brandishes a scalpel.

Ed grins at him, not seeing a crazy man with a knife but a welcomed opportunity.  “I like your style friend.  Do you like riddles?  Why is a Raven like a writing desk?”

Tetch squirms, squats, and giggles.  “I love that one!”  He cuts Ed free, “I like your style, too.  Let’s be brothers.  Come with me to the sea.”

“Wait,” says Ed thinking.  “If I were your brother, getting out would be tough.  If I were your hostage, it would be easier stuff.”

Tetch waves his hand, “That was a little off.”

Ed nods, “I didn’t like it either, but the logic is sound.  I’m kind of a big-time experiment around here.  They’d hate to see me harmed.  So, put that knife to my neck, friend.  And let the real fun begin.”  He grins and Tetch squeals.  It’s the good luck Ed’s was looking for today.  He redresses in just his slacks and shirt and follows Tetch out into the hall.

* * *

 

They sneak around trying to find a way out without alerting the creepy staff.  There’s some stomping around, Ed would like to get to a window or a phone.  “People are obviously alerted to either your escape or something else is going down.  We need to find out what before we get out there.  There’s no chance you can fly a helicopter?”

Tetch shakes his head.  “But we can see what’s going on that way.”  He leads Ed back to where’s he been.  “Look inside.”  He pulls Ed in what appears to be a security room.  There’s a dead guard on the floor and all the cameras have been turned off. 

“Ah,” says Ed.  “You’ve been busy.”

Tetch nods, “Very.”

Ed strips the orderly of his jacket and hand radio.  He turns the screens on and finds people running throughout the floor in different directions, heading for elevators and picking up guns.  He doesn’t see Oswald or Fish anywhere and turns the cameras back off.  With Tetch’s keys, they walk around undetected for some time.  They come across a room filled with frozen tanks and the sound of sawing and shouting.  Dr. Dolmacher starts screaming at Dr. Eckhart, “If you had any sense, you’d tell him no!”

She shrinks under him, “I’m sorry.  I didn’t know everything would get so out of control.  Now the virus is gone!” 

Ed backs away, and narrows his eyes at Tetch, “Please don’t tell me you have the Tetch virus samples on you.”

Tetch shows where he’s been pricked black and blue, “I _am_ the Tetch virus sample.  And they’re not getting any more.”  Ed claps him on the shoulder and leads him away from the scientists.

They come across guards running and shouting orders so they take cover behind a desk. 

“Why in the hell are the police back!  Get up there and scrub everything!”

Ed smiles, thinking his luck has gotten better.  Now positioning himself to take advantage of the chaos without getting caught, being held accountable for anything, and still keeping Oswald is going to be tricky.  But he loves a good puzzle.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-14-18

Ed ends up pinned in a closet with Tetch breathing down his neck.   While he’s trying to think of a way out, the Mad Hatter is mumbling and shoving him.  “Out, out, out!  I can’t stand this quiet and closeness!  Far too close!  Out!”

“Wait,” says Ed.  “We have to wait for the right time.  Or do you want to walk out of here and right into the hands of the GCPD?” 

Tetch shakes his head, “No, no, no.  No more cages.  You’ll liberate me, won’t you brother?”

Ed takes him by the hand, “Hold that little knife of yours by my middle, and we’ll walk right out.  If anyone sees us, tell them you’re going to kill me if they don’t let us both go.  Okay?”

Tetch’s hand is shaking and he hesitates, “You’re one of the fake ones?”

Ed listens to the sounds of approaching footsteps.  He smiles, “That’s the story.  Come on, brother.”

He opens the door and fakes being surprised.  He stands there with his hands up and shoulders hunched in as Tetch follows him out into the hall.  Three GCPD officers raise their guns, “Put the weapon down!”

Tetch hisses, “You’re not the doctors!  You’re the cops!  This one, this one is a fake!  A lying snake, who told me to bring him here!”  He waves the scalpel and the officers fire a warning shot.

“Don’t move,” says one cop.  “Put the damn knife down.  Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head.”  He waves his hand for Ed to run over when Tetch drops his knife.

Ed comes over and allows himself be handcuffed while babbling, “I don’t know what happened here.  _Where_ is _here?_   Honestly, I was kidnapped this morning.”

“Easy cop-killer,” says the chatty officer.  He roughly leads Ed back to an elevator and takes him up to the first floor.  There Ed sees many of the doctors being hauled away.  Outside the window are three helicopters and the lobby is covered in swat officers.   

Bullock is yelling through a bullhorn coordinating the movements while ME’s and paramedics move the experiments and survivors.  Harvey Dent assists, “Careful with them.  I’m sure they’re human. And they probably didn’t ask for this.   They’re wardens of the state now.”

Ed doesn’t see any sign of Oswald, Fish, Hugo, or Zsasz.  But Dulmacher is being read his rights and his hands are covered in blood.  Ed is pushed outside to be processed.  He looks out to the sea and notices there’s a whole damn U.S. naval cruiser assisting the operation.  Ed raises a brow and smirks, “How in the hell did Jim manage that?”

“He didn’t,” says Dent behind him.  “I called in a few emergency favors.  Jim had an _anonymous_ tip there was human trafficking on an incredible scale going on.  We had to coordinate with bigger fish to get the job done quickly and quietly.”

Bullock swaggers out and looks Ed up and down, “I knew it.  Pod people!   So, are you real or fake?  We found a bunch of your boyfriends in there on the ice.  Bet that makes for an interesting Saturday night.”  He’s high on being vindicated and it makes Ed’s stomach turn to see him gloat.

But all the same.  The plan worked.  Ed is almost free.  And with Jim’s help, he’ll walk from any wrongdoing done in this place.  And if Oswald got the tip he left with Clayface, he should be long gone as well.  They’ll be together, but all the research and the clones will be gone.  Ed can’t help smiling back at Bullock, “I just want to thank you both, Harvey and Harvey.  If it hadn’t been for you, who knows what would have happened.  I’ve been kidnapped twice today and I can’t say it’s an agreeable experience.”  He looks around for a way to distract them.  Their focus needs to be on something more important for him to walk away.  He thinks of it at the last moment.  “Where’s Foxy?”

“Foxy?”

“Lucius was with me in the helicopter when I woke.”  He touches his head with his cuffed hands and feigns an injury, “I don’t remember much.  I tried to tell him a riddle and he said he rather throw himself out the helicopter.  He wasn’t in the best of moods.”

“Damn it!”  Bullock snatches his hat and throws it on the ground.  “It is _always_ something!”  He turns back to the building, “Listen up, guys!  Spread out and find Lucius Fox!!  He’s in here somewhere!  Hey!  Don’t roll your eyes at me!  His one brain is worth ten of yours, now get looking!”

Dent watches Ed carefully while the chatty officer reads him his rights and has an ME check out his side and stick him in a helicopter.  Ed maintains a smile all the while.  For the first time in a long while, he can honestly say he came out on top.

* * *

 

After a police inquiry and some blood testing, and a little stamped certificate that some enterprising young doctor made up to tell the clones apart, Ed is released from the government’s custody.  He never catches up with Gordon, hearing he’s disappeared somewhere with his uncle and Leslie.  Ed tells them everything he remembers about the place and promises to appear in court to testify against Dulmacher.  In exchange for being a high-profile witness, Harvey Dent rolls his eyes and says maybe he’ll do something about the damn pool.  They’re just putting two and two together when they realize the current mayor is probably not the mayor and haul in Aubrey James. 

Ed pretends to be just as surprised by the whole thing and the idiot clone corroborates his story.  The Aubrey Two looks Ed in the face and shrugs, “I’ve never seen him before.  He’s not the father.”

They search the house and find nothing thanks to the recent cleaning.  Almost 72 hours later, Ed walks into the manor with a big smile on his face.

Then Victor Fries greets him at the door with a punch in the nose.

Ed doubles over in pain, “What the hell!”

Victor eyes him carefully, “Just making sure.  The fakes don’t really feel pain.  They took Didi out the lounge as evidence.  I’m getting out of here before they come for me.”

“Come for you?”

“I’m the only one who can revive all those sleeping clones safely.  I didn’t just leave my research laying around, and Fish wants me back to work.”  He passes Ed with a shove, “I wouldn’t stick around if I were you.  You’re at the top of everyone’s shit list.  Even Ivy’s pissed.”

“Ivy?”

“She’s got thorns when she wants them.”  He nods at Ed, “Best of luck with that.” 

He leaves and Ed hasn’t the energy to follow him or make any more inquiries.  Perhaps the others suspect him, but he’s clean.  Mostly.  Jim’s not there to tell who tipped him off, and all they have is flying accusations at each other.  Ed decides he’ll wait until morning to check Ivy’s home, then the monster barracks at the factory and maybe a few of Oswald’s safe houses.  He fixes himself a couple of cold cut sandwiches, takes a long hot shower and passes out on Oswald’s side of the bed.  He’s certain, he’ll figure out how to maneuver around their mistrust in the morning.  If Dulmacher is weak and exposing Oswald and the others, he can deal with it.  What’s important, is Ed is finally free.

* * *

 

Ed wakes up freezing cold.  The shock of it sends him thrashing and fighting.  He’s so out of sort, he barely registers the fact that’s he’s not back in the tank.  “No, no, no.”

“I thought so,” says Zsasz by the tub.  Ed stands up, shivering and dripping in his clothes.  Zsasz isn’t alone.  Waylon grins while hovering over him. They must have dropped him in the water.

“What… is… this…” says Ed, as he tries to step out of the tub.  Waylon holds him back with a clawed hand and Zsasz moves to open the bedroom door.

“Dee-man, we have a situation.  It’s all hands on deck, and you seemed to disappear.  The Bosses want you back.”

“Well,” says Ed.  “There are gentler ways of getting me up.  I have never been a deep sleeper.”

“That’s a lie,” says Zsasz as he points a finger, “You slept like a baby all the way in here, right?”  He slaps Waylon the chest.

Waylon grins, “It’s my calming aura.”  He smiles with all his teeth and Ed frowns. 

He does feel strangely calm, but that’s not the point.  He was rudely thrown in a bath of ice.  “Whatever, let’s go.”  He starts to step out the tub but Zsasz shakes his head.  Waylon grumbles and steps out of the room while Zsasz whips out a baton.  He waves it in front and Ed and it sizzles with a stunner at the tip.  Ed takes a deep breath trying to piece together what’s happening.  “Everything is running amok and you think you can get rid of me while no one’s watching.  Do you’ll think Oswald is going to fall back into your arms if you kill me?  I don’t think so.”  He smiles, sure of one thing.  Oswald will love him or whatever likeness of Ed he has over someone like Zsasz.  “And if he finds out what you tried to do…”

“Tried?  I don’t try, Dee-man.  And you seem to think I’m here operating on some jealous vendetta.  I’ll admit, I’m not happy with you.  I don’t think you’re any good for my favorite boss, but I’m a professional.  And if he lets me tie him up a little, well,” he shrugs.  “It’s a win/win.”

Ed stares with his face tight, “Oswald sent you to kill me?”

“Get the job done, is all he said.  Hugo says your critical, Dee-man.  There’s no use in keeping you around if you’re falling apart.  Oswald doesn’t want to see your sad puppy mug again and so.” 

Zsasz steps forward and Ed panics raising his hand.  “Wait!  This isn’t like you at all!  I mean really?  A bathtub and a shock?”

Zsasz gives him a funny look, “I’m pretty sure, I can kill you with this thing.  That’s very in keeping with my character.”  He nods and pats his chest with his free hand, “In fact, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll cut you when you’re down.  And make sure you bleed out in the tub.  I know how Oswald feels about messes.  I’m considerate like that.”

“No,” says Ed.  “You’re afraid.  I cracked your head open once and you’re afraid you won’t win.  That’s why Waylon is outside the door.  That’s why I’m in the tub.  You couldn’t win otherwise.”

“Pfft.  You’re a cocky son of a bitch, you know that.  But I’m not stupid!”  He points the thing at the water again, “Any last words, Dee-man.”

Ed shrugs, “Coward.”

Zsasz sneers at him and moves to shove the stick in the water.  When he does, Ed grabs him by the wrist and headbutts him.  Zsasz falls backward clutching his head and Ed calmly gets out of the tub.  “Funny thing about those cheap batons.  They discharge in water with little effect.  I appreciate the mild tickle, but you’d have been better off with knives.”

Zsasz starts to get up and Ed uses the baton on him while he’s on the floor.  Zsasz cries out and the door opens.  Waylon takes one look and barrels in the bathroom.  Ed shoves the stick into his middle with no effect.  Waylon sighs, “Apologies, Boss.”  He takes the baton and breaks it with one hand.  He grabs Ed by the neck throws him into the wall, sending him into blackness.

* * *

Ed wakes up to the sight of Oswald pacing.  He’s not tied down and Oswald stops to look at him and shakes his head.  “I’ve been racking my brain.  Who betrayed us, just when we had everything.  Who?  Among my associates are psychopaths, known sadists, murderers, serial killers, ambitious mobsters… and every single one of them has betrayed me or attacked me.  At least once.”  He walks over to the bed with his cane and sits down, resting the cane by his leg while he turns to Ed.  “Falcone and Fish aren’t the most stable of allies and Butch is unreliable.  Barbara is greedy.  Tabitha is hateful.  The only one I can count on…,” he leans forward and Ed rushes forward, happy to hold him again.

It worked.  Everything worked.  Oswald is here and they will be together.  Just the two of them against the whole world.  He breathes deep just under Oswald's ear and kisses him.  Whatever new cologne he’s wearing is sweet and feminine but it suits him.  Ed smiles wide, feeling happy and open.

Oswald pulls away with tears in his eyes and kisses Ed gently on the lips, “The only one I can count on is Ivy.”

Ed frowns, “What?”

Oswald throws his arms Ed’s neck and sobs, “And it breaks my heart to have to ask.  But is it true?  Are you Edward Nygma?  Are you real?”

Ed clutches Oswald tight, prepared to lie but his mind feels foggy.  Oswald asks him again and the answer bubbles out of Ed without him trying, “I’m the Riddler.”

Oswald breaks down in his arms.  “Of course.  Well.  I should have known.  A ‘switch’ you said.  It was right there.  You do love your puns.”  He pulls away and looks sad at Ed.  “Just to be clear, I hate that you deceived me.  Every moment you lied to me, every kiss.  _Everything_.  That was… that was… stolen.  You took from me, Ed.”

“I’m so sorry.  I love you, Oswald.”

“I know.  I believe you, Ed.  But what was done is done.  And there’s only moving forward now.  Are you prepared to deal with the consequences?”

Ed nods, not knowing why. “I want to be with you.”

Oswald gives him a sad look.  “Well.  We’ll only have each other for a while.  He opens the windows and outside Ed sees a cloud of red smoke pluming from the train station.  He gets off the bed and joins Oswald.  “Gotham is burning.  I failed to keep the egg off the ice, and the Court of Owls hit the reset button.  This is your fault, Ed.  Everything is falling apart.”  He takes Ed’s hand.  Ed feels like he’s ripping at the seams, but then Oswald squeezes his hand.  “And you are going to help me fix it.”

Ed squeezes back and looks out into the city.  There’s perhaps some hope after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *and with that, I’m taking a little break. Thank you so much for reading this far, ^_^ 
> 
> I'll come back after I focus on some other stuff, without hearing Ed's voice in my head.  
> *shakes it out*


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-14-18

Two weeks into what the media calls Gotham’s Apocalypse and most of the clones in City Council have been outed.  Ed tells what’s left of the GCPD the whole thing was conceived by Dulmacher and Hugo.  Dulmacher is smeared in the media for ‘stealing the helpless children of Gotham’ for his experiments.   A client list is leaked out and all hell breaks loose amongst the upper echelons.   Hugo remains at large, in Fish’s protection.  And Fish holds the city hostage, having the only access to the cure.  With all the pieces on the board ignoring their proper functions, the game makes little sense.

But Ed is trying.  Holding hands was the last congenial thing he did with Oswald.  After the reveal, Oswald retreated and only speaks to Ed as the Penguin.  They sleep in separate rooms and Ed hasn’t found a way to show just how sorry he is for everything.

Jim Gordon is still missing and with so many officers down with the virus, the national guard is called in.  There's a city-wide curfew and little activity in the daytime.  Citizens are urged to stay in their homes and anyone trying to leave is vetted through a blockade.  Ed resigns himself to his position, stuck at the top of a glass tower watching lunatics run the city down.  It’s glorious in a way, but he’s not free to enjoy it.  After the initial questioning, Ed was put under constant guard, locked in Oswald’s new penthouse.  He doesn’t like it much, but he can’t complain when he never sees anyone.  Oswald comes and goes, but hardly says two words to him.  Bulloch and Dent know where to find him if they have more questions.  

Ed is going stir crazy.  He catches himself speaking to the figments of Oswald and Kristen and Isabella more than once. 

Oswald came home one night and caught him arguing with Isabella in the mirror.  He merely shook his head and retired to his room, leaving Ed alone in the dark.

 

* * *

  

Something must change, thinks Ed on the sixteenth day.  He feels frozen again.  And if it were someone else he’d laugh at the irony, but it’s his own damn predicament, so it’s not very laughable.  It’s maddening.

Ed stands up in the master bedroom, laying out a smart suit for Oswald to conduct business in for the day.  No one asked him to, but he finds playing the doting housewife helps a little with the boredom.  At least he is sure to see Oswald and interact with him, even marginally.  He puts a blue tie on a red vest and shakes his head.  Then while he’s considering a green one, Oswald comes out the bathroom.  He ignores Ed like he does every morning.  And leaves the room, like he does every morning.  He goes to the kitchen and eats the breakfast Ed prepared for him and will come back to dress when Ed leaves the clothes and retreats to his own room.

But this morning, Ed feels like the ticking counter for his penance is up.  What he did was very wrong, in a lengthy list of wrongdoing, but he _apologized_.  And damn it, he thinks.  He is tired of the smug look he sees on Didi’s imaginary face in every corner of the penthouse.  Oswald’s showers or baths are always long.  Ed can imagine him on the other side of the door, prepping himself for… Victor Zsasz, or Victor Fries.  Whichever is his favorite at the moment.  Or perhaps a handsome waiter.  Or a plucky goon like Kay or older boss like one the gang leaders.  There _has to_ be somebody else because Oswald is not sleeping with _him_.  Oswald is not speaking to _him_.  Oswald is not touching _him_.  The figment of Didi grins at Ed, and he shakes head and picks up the blue tie and wraps it around his right fist.  His mind is made up.  He’s going to restart the board. 

Ed walks out to where Oswald is eating his crepes and reading the newspaper at the counter.  He looks adorable, scrubbed up and covered in a fluffy hotel robe.  His bad leg shakes on the stool but he doesn’t seem to mind.  Ed takes a deep breath before saying, “We need to talk.”

Oswald doesn’t look up from the paper, “Fish is going to be very pleased.  Your plan to keep them looking for Fox worked out as a distraction.  You were right.  He’s the perfect, respectable front for the cure.  And now that they’ve found find him and limited quantities of the vaccine, they can start bringing order to the city again.”  He flaps his paper with a wan smile, “The Court is dead, the city will be cured, and I’m thinking I don’t need a pool in the Iceberg Lounge.  Today’s looking up.  Or it was until you started talking.”

“Shut up, Oswald.”

Oswald looks down at Ed’s hand and rolls his eyes.  He turns to Ed and adjusts his bathrobe.  Ed’s eyes follow his hands and get lost thinking of Oswald’s bare thighs.  Knowing he had unrestricted access weeks ago while pretending to be someone else who pretended to be him, rubs Ed the wrong way.  Oswald scoffs at him, “You’re not seriously thinking you can assault me, now?  There are fourteen men and women on this floor just waiting to lay into you for any reason.  Beating your frustration’s out on me is not going to work.”

“I can’t stay in here, Oswald.  I’m going mad.   Just let me help you.  Let me come with you to the meetings…”

“No.  Everyone hates you, friend.”  It’s the Penguin smiling at him now, “Everyone wants your head on a platter.  The loss of life out there is high, but I don’t really care.  The loss of revenue, and property, and resources… all of it, I don’t give a damn.  The thing I care about is losing what little control I had on this cesspool city.  And it was all your fault.  Remember?  Because they do,” he points to the door.  “And I’m dealing with too much shit right now to care about your half-assed apologies!”

Ed brings his hand up and starts to unwrap the tie, “I can’t let you say that.  I have to get out, and you’re my only way out the door.”

Oswald slaps his hand on the counter, “Yes!  That I am!  I am the only thing keeping you safe.  Now go back to your room and darn socks or do crosswords, or whatever you do in there.  You’re not leaving, Ed.  And there’s nothing you can do about it!”

The figment of Didi appears near the front door and has the gall to open it and walk out grinning.  And that’s it, for Ed.  His mind snaps and he walks forward, coiling the tie in his hand while Oswald scrabbles on the counter for a weapon. 

He settles for a steak knife and turns to Ed, “I’m warning you.”

Ed strikes out with the tie, wraps it around Oswald’s wrist and yanks.  Oswald’s hand comes down hard on the counter and he drops the knife.  He tries to get up but Ed kicks the stool out from under him.  Oswald is freefalling to the floor but Ed follows him, even catching him before his head can smack on the marble floor. 

Oswald pushes his shoulder back and reaches for the knife with his free hand, but Ed takes both hands and knots the tie around them.  When he’s sure Oswald is secure, he throws the knife away and sits up while pinning Oswald down by the shoulders. 

“Let’s not fight, Oswald.”

“Hel—“

Ed covers his mouth.  “Always with the screaming.” He bends down and kisses Oswald on the nose.  “You’re lucky I like I the sound of your voice.  So much so, that you’re a part of me.  When I’m not talking to you, I see you.  Always.  Everywhere.  You understand?  I need you to help me, Oswald.  This other you in my head is a lot nicer to me because we worked out our differences.  Can’t you and I do the same?”  He settles between Oswald’s knees and pins him with one hand while the other undoes his belt.  His fingers brush along Oswald inner thigh and he can’t help smiling, knowing Oswald is ticklish there.

Oswald can’t see himself the way Ed does.  He’s most likely thinking the worst.  He thrashes and gasps, panicking and hyper-focused on Ed’s opened pants.  So, Ed backs away slowly.  He rests his hands gently on Oswald’s wrists.  With everything that just transpired, this is the act that confuses Penguin and he frowns up at him, “What are you doing?”

“Showing you,” says Ed while untying Oswald.  He loops the tie around his own neck and brings Oswald’s hands up to hold the crossed ends.  “If you don’t believe the words.  I’ll show you.”

Oswald doesn’t look convinced.  He yanks on the tie and sits up, “You think it’s as easy that?  You can’t just leave your cock out and think I’ll welcome being ravished on the floor!”  He yanks on the tie and Ed falls forward but doesn’t resist.  “I should take my cane and beat your head in again.  I should let Zsasz cut you up. I should... I should… stop looking at me like that!”

Oswald pulls hard enough to cut off Ed’s air and this is more than he bargained for.  But he put his life in Oswald’s hands to make a point.  He can make sacrifices, too.  He can brave abuses and he can be a shoulder to lean on.  He can show Oswald that he’ll give his life to him.  And hopefully, he’ll survive it.

Oswald wraps the tie in one fist, “Stop it!  Stop looking at me like that!”  He sobs a little but Ed can breathe again.  So, he leans down to kiss Oswald on the nose again, and this time Oswald meets him, kissing Ed on the lips.

They exchange quick, desperate kisses while Ed pulls him closer.  Everything is frenetic and rushed but Ed allows Oswald take and take while clinging to his shoulders and wrapping his good leg around Ed’s waist.  It’s sloppy and uncoordinated and Oswald gives the tie the odd yank or twist and Ed finds it thrilling.  The threat is still there, but he’s happy to submit.  Oswald's free hand slides down Ed’s chest and to the open pants.  Then it’s inside and Ed’s closes his eyes and gasps when Oswald's fingers brush against his hardening member.  He’s so lost in sensation and the connection, that he doesn’t notice Oswald going still while he slides his hands under the robe and squeezes the globes of Oswald's ass.

Oswald shoves him away, yanks the tie off and throws it across the floor.  “No!  I’m not rewarding you for an apology!  Damn it, Ed!  Stay there!”  He gets up and limps back to the front door where his cane sits in the umbrella bin.  “Just stay there,” he says turning on Ed with the cane in his hand.  “I’ll move Olga in to press my suits.  I don’t need you, Ed.  Not for anything.  You’re an empty-headed ornament.  I may as well have you frozen again!”

The prospect of being on ice terrifies him, but Ed steels himself.  “If that’s what you want.  Then do it.  I’m prepared to take any consequence.  Even if you kill me this time.”  He gets on one knee and bows his head, trying to show his sincerity.

Oswald goes still and the cane clacks as it hits the floor.

Ed looks up and smiles.  “I love you, Oswald.”

Oswald wipes his eyes and nods, “Yeah, maybe.”  He closes his robe and hobbles back to the front door and opens it.  He stands to the side and waves his hand, “Well go on.  Get lost Ed.  You’re free to go.  And I pray you make past the others.  I’ve learned to surround myself with better friends.  And they’re not keen on seeing you.”

Ed gets up on shaky legs, “I’d do it.  I’d walk any gauntlet for you.  You want me to show my devotion, I will.”  He takes a deep breath and walks forward.  Ed passes Oswald, and once out the door turns to say a few last words.  Oswald slams the door in his face.  “Oh,” says Ed.  He turns back to the gilded hall.  He looks down and does up his pants, wondering what exactly set Oswald off, when he was giving and taking.  He had all the power, thinks Ed.  But he still recoiled and Ed wonders if they’ll never get past the distrust.  He wonders if he even deserves it…

The door across the hall opens and Ed smiles at Ivy.  He only remembers Victor’s last warning when it’s too late.

* * *

 

Ed wakes up outside.  Unfiltered sun beams down on him for the first time in weeks, but he can’t really enjoy it.  He sighs and turns his head around, addressing who he knows is just behind him.  “Can we talk, Ivy?  Don’t you think burying me up to my neck is little much?”

“No.”

Ed is a thin man, but he’s not skin and bone.  “Did Fries help you put me down here?”

“No.”

“Ah,” says Ed.  Oswald did say there’s more one villain on the top floor mad at him.  If Ivy can’t be reasoned with, he’d like to try the other person.  “So, you have your own lackeys now?”

“I ain’t no lackey!”  Says a familiar voice.  When Ed first woke, the guards in the room.  A young woman that was arguing over bad riddles.  She comes around to where Ed can see.  She’s even shorter than Oswald, put has a larger than life presence with two swords strapped to her back.  Or perhaps Ed is imagining things from his vantage point.  “I’m Ling and I follow no one.”

“But Fish,” says Ed.  “And Penguin.  And Falcone.  There’s long list of people you’re following right now, honey.  Including my little red-headed friend here.”

Ivy grunts behind him and comes forward with a shovel in her hand, “We’re not friends!  After everything me and Victor did for you, you ratted us out!  It’s your fault Selina was hurt!”  She kicks dirt in Ed’s face and steps over his head to go back to what she was doing.  Clinking and clacking sounds from perhaps a tool bag.

“Selina?  Was she on the island?  I thought you kids were out stalking Bruce Wayne?”

“He’s cute when makes that face,” says Ling pointing at Ed.  “He looks like a grumpy cat.”

Ed tries to school his features into a more neutral expression.  There’s nothing worse than having a teenage girl laugh at you.  He sighs, “Just tell me what happened.  What is it you think I did?  Because honestly, I didn’t do it on purpose.  I did betray Oswald on the island.  I tipped the GCPD off to follow me.  I didn’t want to die in some kind of experiment meant for the clones.  They thought I was falling apart?!”  He looks back as far as he can but still can’t make her out, so he turns to Ling.  “What the hell is she doing.”

The girl smiles, “You poor dude.”

Ed’s face falls, “Ivy!  Ivy!?”

“Shut up, Riddler…”  She walks back over with her face drawn up in a sneer, “I’m not stupid!  I’m not a traitor!  I don’t’ turn my back on my friends and you made it look like I was helping you to hurt Oswald.  You weren’t supposed to!  We were supposed to be a family and you took that away!”  She holds out her hand where little seeds sit in her dirty palm.  “We should have left you in the ice.”

“Wait,” says Ed.  Seeds in the palm of a pretty girl’s hand shouldn’t be so scary, but here it is.  “Wait.  Just tell me about Selina.  And Bridgit.  What happened that day?  I thought you kids were safe.  I swear.  I didn’t do anything to jeopardize your mission.”

Ivy steps forward and bends down by his head, with the seeds seeming to jump around in her hand.  She sits them down one by one by his face.  “But if you hadn’t outted the clones, the Court wouldn’t have pressed the button.  Don’t you understand?  You ruined Penguin’s deal and they went ahead with their own stupid plans.  When they did, that fake Bruce followed Selina and pushed her out a window.  She was hurt so bad, and I thought…”  She covers her face with her other hand while patted soil over the jumping seeds.  “I thought I lost her.”

Ed frowns, “This is the first I’m hearing of this, you know.  And I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry, Ivy.  I didn’t mean for that to happen.  Honestly, I was hoping for a completely different outcome.  I want Oswald and everyone Oswald cares about, including you, to be happy.  I mean it.  Killing me might make you feel better in the short term, but think big picture.  I owe you one, Ivy.  Isn’t there anything you wanted for yourself?  Name anything at all, and I’ll get it for you.  I promise.”

“Boo,” says Ling.  “Let the dirt eat him.”

The ground in front seems to move.  Ed struggles but there’s no give for his limbs in the dirt.  “Ivy, please.”

“I’m thinking,” says the girl.  She stands up and crosses her arms.  “Anything? Like stuff or doing?”

“Both.  Anything you want me to do.  Anything you want me to get.”

Ivy wipes her nose and walks over his head once again.  She comes back with a spray that smells acidic and dampens the soil near Ed.  “Okay,” she says while nodding to a shovel.  “But you have to help me find Selina.  She disappeared from her hospital room.  I don’t know where she went.”

Ed nods, agreeing easily.  “I can help you. Where do you want to start?  I can send out some feelers… eh…”  Ed feels something in the ground brushing up against his ribs.  “What’s that?  What the hell is that!  Ivy!  Something is touching me!”

She rolls her eyes and steps over his head again.

The thing in the ground pushes harder and harder.  A sharp point is near his heart, drilling forward. “Ivy!  Help!”  He looks to Ling but she just stands there smiling at him.

Ed’s about to scream when a shovel smashes down in front of his face.  He turns his head to the side and Ivy’s heel hits the top of the spade and there’s a terrible crunching sound.  And oozing green sap running out as she pulls up the shovel.  She grins at Ed and bends down, her knees bracketing the back of his head.  “You got a some on your nose.  Boop.”

Ed stares up at her in wonder, “I’ll clean up first, and then we’ll go.” 

Ling laughs and points at him, “He peed his pants!”

 

* * *

 

Ivy and Ling escort him back up to Oswald’s apartments.  They giggle and whisper behind his back the whole time and Ed’s feels his ears are red hot.  He did not, in fact, pee his pants.  But the insinuation takes him back to grade school.  He sighs and turns to them at the door, “Are you done?”

Ivy shrugs, “Yeah.  Whatever, you big dummy.”  Ling rolls her eyes and leaves them.  The door is locked and Ivy pulls out a key, “Just understand.  If you lay a finger on him, me and the Creeper are coming back for you.”  She turns on her heel and goes back to the other apartment, “You have thirty minutes.”

Ed shakes his whole body before crossing the doorway, dumping as much dirt as he can off in the hall.  When Ed steps in the apartment he finds Oswald laying on the couch, still in his bathrobe with a bottle on his chest.  He takes one look at Ed and barks out laughing, “I hope Ivy took pictures.  I _really_ do.”

“Shut up, Oswald.”

“Ah,” Says Oswald covering his chest.  He watches Ed marches away and laughs harder.  “But I’m the voice in your head, Ed.”  He guffaws in the living room while Ed locks himself in his room.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-14-18

Ed stands under the shower counting the seconds.  He has twenty-four minutes left before Ivy comes for him.  So, he scrubs up quickly and walks out to his room to redress.  He’s drying his hair and thinking it’s ridiculous, the tedium one feels when one has to repeat the same process in the span of two hours or so.  He pulls the towel back and gasps, at the sight on his bed.

Oswald laying on his side, with the green tie in his hand.  “I’m not going to work today.”

“Oh, dear.”  Ed swallows thickly and clears his throat.  Still, his voice comes out high, “That’s unusual.”

Oswald raises a brow and stares at Ed. Ed stares back with his mouth agape.  “I’m going to stay in,” he clarifies.   “You’re free to go anywhere you like.  Do anything you want.  What do you want to do, Ed?”

Ed stammers, looking at Penguin and wondering if he’s seeing the real thing, or if his mind is playing into his subconscious desires.  “You… are you?  If you…”

“Are you talking about seeing things?”

“Yes,” says Ed with a sigh of relief.  At least both Oswald and the figment seem to understand.  His control of perception is most vulnerable when he’s upset.  And he’s been off balance for a long, long time.  “But I think this is real.  I hope so.  I really do.  If you’ve forgiven me…”

“Forgiven you for lying and putting your hands on me while pretending to be someone else?”

Ed nods and counters, “Someone you were pretending were me, anyway.  It's dubious at best, I know, but you wanted it.  You wanted to call me Ed.  You asked for me.  You slept in my arms, you came in my hands.  In my _mouth_.  And you did it desperately.”

“Don’t,” says Oswald setting up.  “Don’t act like there’s anything you can say to make it right, Ed.  And what _you_ did was not _my_ fault.  It wasn’t just improper, it was wrong.  Criminal in the worst the way. Do you really not understand with all the strained trust between us, that rebuilding it with something like that unacknowledged is out of the question.  Weeks of deception on your part, Ed.  After everything you did to me.  How exactly do you see us going forward?  And whatever you are thinking, don’t assume dropping the towel or tying yourself up will make a difference.  I’m not in the least bit moved such base urges.  No matter what Didi or Zsasz thinks.  And that back there,” he handwaves at the door and their earlier tryst.  “That was just nerves and frustration.  But I don’t just want a confession or an apology, Ed.  I want you to make it right.  I want my friend back.”

Ed wants to run forward, perhaps drop the towel anyway.  There’s a riddle at the tip of his tongue, but he’s on a tight countdown and looking at Oswald now he’s certain it’ll be the wrong thing to say.  Except… he can think of one thing.  One conversation shared late at night on his old bed while Oswald was full of good takeout and comfortable with sitting by him, shoulder to shoulder.  Ed slept in the bed that night and they woke up and shared shy smiles before he went to work.  Ed clears his throat, “What is light in the dark and there at the end and the beginning of every birth?”

Oswald gives him a soft smile but doesn’t answer.  Ed smiles back at him, knowing he remembers the answer.  Oswald stands up and brushes shoulders with Ed on the way to the door.  When he gets to it, he turns back and smiles again.  “You better hurry.  Ivy’s waiting in the kitchen and she’s armed with a potted plant that drinks blood.”

Oswald leaves Ed to hurry with his obligations.  Leaving the answer to the riddle in the air between them.

* * *

 

Ed, Ivy and her new young associate search the city for the whereabouts of the lost Cat.  Ed settles for acting as their driver and coordinates their efforts.  Ling has an entire gang of murderous little urchins at her beck and call but they come up empty-handed.  Ed sends outs feelers from anyone who still trusts him or answers to money.  And he comes up with nothing.  Ivy makes contacts with the juvenile criminal underground, dragging Ed to the Flea and through Selina’s old fences.  They settle on searching Wayne manor as a last resort.  And there they find the most bothersome butler in the whole world, aiming a shotgun at their collective faces. 

“Oi!”

Ivy laughs, “It’s me, remember.  Ivy Pepper.  I’m a friend.”

The old man raises his gun, “As I recall, you drugged me with something and snuck out.  You endangered Master Bruce’s life.  Didn’t ya?”

Ivy shrugs, “Maybe a little.  But honestly, we’re here to help.  I’m looking for Cat.  Have you seen her?”

“Minxy little escape artist, pah.” He bends over holding his hand to his chest, “Yeah.  She was stirring up trouble, but she’s gone.  She fell out with Master Bruce at the hospital.”

Ivy throws up her hands, “She went back to the hospital?!  After all the time I spent looking for her!  Wait, is she hurt?”

Ed looks closely at the old man and points, “No, but he was.  Right?  What happened when the Court of Owls collapsed?  Did the copy do that to you?”

Alfred looks sad and shakes his head, “No you big-eared twat.  It was Master Bruce.  Only he wasn’t himself.  They were playing mind games with him, but he’s better now.  I supposed you’d like a word with him.  But I’m not letting that psychopath anywhere near him again.”  He points the gun at Ed and eyes Ling, “And you look like you’re just as much trouble as the other one.  What are they feeding little girls these days?”

Ling smirks, “The blood of our enemies.”

Alfred’s lips curl and he rolls his eyes, “Charming.”  He turns back to Ivy.  “You can speak to him.  But the rest of your lot need to leave.  Now.  Off you pop.”

“That’s not necessary, Alfred.  I can talk,” says Bruce.  Ed hasn’t seen the young billionaire in a while, but it seems he’s had another growth spurt.  He always had an unearthly look of calm and focus for a child.  And now he seems to be filling out around the edges, he walks up to the doorway and exchanges Alfred’s gun for a pair of crutches.  “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“I’m fine.  Keeping this lot of refuse out the house is in my job description.  I have to take care of you, don’t I?”

“That may be,” says Bruce.  “But it’s my turn to take care of you.  Please.  Go lie back down.  We’re not under attack.  Right, Ivy?”

Ivy nods, “I just want to know where Selina is, that’s all.”

For a split second, Bruce’s face has conflicted expressions, but it settles back to eerie calm.  “I don’t know where she is at the moment.  We… parted ways.  I hope she’s well, but she’s not welcomed back in this house.”  He exhales and Ed watches his hold on the gun.  Bruce looks up to Ed, “And you.  You tried to kill me and Lucius.  Did you think I’d forgotten?”

“Hardly,” says Ed.  “I made the spectacle as big as possible.  It should be unforgettable,” he grins and Bruce raises the gun.  Ed raises his hands, “I just assumed your missing girlfriend would be more important to you.  You haven’t any clue of where else she would go?  Any lead you can give would be much appreciated and we’d be glad to take leave of your doorstep.”  Ed tries to give a reassuring smile but the boy looks even more wary.

Bruce puts the shotgun aside.  “If she’s still in Gotham, she could be anywhere.  She knows everyone.  But maybe… her mother.”

Ivy pushes Bruce shoulder, “Shut up!  She doesn’t like to talk about her.  Her mom’s like a secret agent or something.”

Bruce gives her a sad look, “Her mother’s a criminal.  And she left town after I paid her off.  But maybe Selina left too.”  He shakes head after saying it out loud.  “But that doesn’t sound right, does it?  Are you sure you checked everywhere?  She has a way of turning up when you least expect it.”

Just as the boy asks, Ed gets a text on his phone.  He checks it and smiles.  “Spotted Cat.”  Ivy tries to wrestle the phone from him, but he holds her back with one arm while he calls his contact.  “Where is she?”  Everyone is quiet while he listens.  He hangs up without a goodbye and smiles as at the kids.  “Well, guess who that was.”

“Where is she!”

“She’s hiding out with Tabitha Galavan at the Sirens.  Apparently, they went dress shopping today out of town.  They’re just getting back through the blockade.”

Bruce nods, “Good.  You have what you were looking for and we know she’s safe.  Please, don’t come back here.”  He closes the door in their faces.

Ling throws a middle finger up.  “Pompous prick.”

Ivy shrugs, “I still think he’s cute.”

* * *

 

The search party breaks up after the visit to Wayne Manor.  Ling runs off to see to her business while Ivy gets another ride out to The Sirens, citing Tabitha’s hate for Ed as a good reason to free him.  Ed intends to take the car back to Oswald’s building.  But he drives through the city first.  He missed the first couple of days when the virus was obviously wreaking havoc but the signs are still there.  Shops are closed with busted windows.  Trash and debris in the streets.  There’s blood splattered on the pavement and marching soldiers beating a path with guns out.  The lockdown on the city should be lifted soon enough.  And they may not have the mayor anymore, but whoever fills in will have to answer to Fish and Oswald.

They trapped each other in this hell, he thinks while circling the block he used to live on.  He and Oswald became each other’s weakness, and it snowballed.  They weren’t just encumbered and sentimental.  They were wrathful and took the whole damn city with them.

The city is in shambles and Ed smiles to himself when passing what appears to be schoolchildren lighting posters of Aubrey James on fire.  That’s right, he thinks.  He did this.  Oswald did this.  But they’re together despite it all.  And they will rebuild.

He hums idly to himself while turning back to the penthouse, “My, my mother’s love… hm…”

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at being patient enough to edit my own writing at the best of times, and it's ten times worst straight off of notes on my phone, but Bill Gates is still holding my computer hostage :P And I felt like braving this post anyway. If anyone is still reading, please have mercy on me and let me know if you see any errors.
> 
> *edited 4-15-18

Ed returns to the penthouse just as the sun is setting.  He's a little surprised at how much time passed, chasing Cat around at the behest of two homicidal teenagers.  But it was decent exercise.  Ed must work his way back into Oswald’s good graces, and Ivy has his ear. 

This morning, Ed felt miserable about the future but now he feels uplifted after his little drive.  The fresh air and freedom to move around has him feeling better about his prospects and he walks into the promised gauntlet of monsters with a skip to his step.  The skyrise Oswald acquired is lined with altered people, costumed and heavenly armed, brazenly guarding the doors in broad daylight.  The little park where he was buried this morning is covered in leather-clad teenagers with piercings and tats and spiked hair.  Ed tips his hat to them and they sneer.  Inside the building, he smiles at the men and women while they snarl, hiss and in one case bark on all fours.

Still, thinks Ed.  He couldn't be happier.  He's not sure how he will fix things but his plans from before are still applicable.  Point one, earn Oswald's trust.  He's working on it.  Point two, reveal himself, done.  Accidentally done, but done nonetheless.  Point three, make Oswald forget all about the counterfeit.  Erase Didi from their history.  Point four, and he's been thinking about this one for a long while, actually. Since he's realized Oswald is keeping his whole world together with two desperate hands.  Eyes sunken, knee aching...  That's simply no way to live, and Ed wants better for him.  He's told them all before he doesn't really care about ruling Gotham.  He could be fabulous anywhere.  Perhaps a long vacation to Paris or London.  Or Tokyo. Somewhere far away and full of gullible tourists. Somewhere with better stages.  Free from the storm sewage stench of Gotham City and its unique inhabitants and all their petty squabbling. 

Ed nods to himself in the elevator, cementing the next plan in his head.  He'll do it.  He'll take Oswald away.  But first, he must think of something special for dinner.  Something rare.   Something only Oswald has a taste for that Ed wouldn't mind braving to show how much he's changed.  A list of every argument they've ever had over a meal writes itself in his head but he scrubs it all when he walks out the elevator.  Walking down the hall of Oswald's floor, are two women pretty enough to be socialites, but likely dangerous is some manner.  They pass Ed to the elevator and he subtly smells their two perfumes, one a passionflower and the other vanilla.  They're a pleasing package together.  But then he shakes his head as he gets to the door.  Ivy gave a key before they parted and he pulls it out, smiling at the little penguin on the keyring.  Ed shakes his head at the menu coming together in his thoughts, “No, that won't work.  Oswald said his step-sister was _tender_ , not tasty."

Ed opens the door, his mind still whirring with possible dinner options, and finds the penthouse dark but for a light in the kitchen.  Soft music accompanied by Oswald singing one of his favorite songs.  Ed gives his cheek a hard pinch to make sure it’s not an apparition.  He walks over to the kitchen and finds Oswald dressed in the clothes laid out that morning.  Well, the shirt and slacks and vest.  His sleeves are rolled up to his forearms and he moves around with his apron stained with brown sauce.  The kitchen smells absolutely heavenly.  If this is a delusion, thinks Ed, he is going to scream.  All signs point to otherwise.

A very real Oswald stands behind the counter with a pan and soft smile.  "I made a pork roast."

"I love pork roast."

"I know."

"I know, you know."  Ed smiles wide, "Thank you.  I was just thinking of what to make you for dinner.  You beat me to it."

Oswald gives him a sheepish grin and puts the food on a trolley to push out to the dining table.  Ed helps him set the table, grinning the whole time.  Oswald clears his throat, blushing before clapping his hands, "Wait!  I have to get myself ready!"  He disappears into his room and comes out in his jacket and tie.  The little penguin pin sits neatly on his chest and Oswald smooths everything out before taking his seat.  "That's more like it."

"A little formal for dinner?  Are we expecting guests," says Ed through his teeth.  He swears to himself, he'll really scream if Victor Zsasz comes around with a bottle of wine.  Or Victor Fries.  Whichever one is Oswald's favorite at the moment.

"Formality serves a purpose.  Atmosphere.  Composure.  People like Fish and Falcone, the old Dons, they came from nothing and they knew that the best way to achieve order from the business of making chaos was to hold the higher-ups to a better standard.  We're not common thugs and murderers.  We know restraint.  We know the numbers and we hold the keys to all the fortune.  And the ladies and gentlemen in charge are formal because we can afford to be better than everyone else and so on and so forth."

Ed nods, finding little fault with that logic.  Except of course, as he voices, "Didn't Falcone once shoot a man in the head at the dinner table?"

Oswald shrugs and pours their wine before platting their food.  "It’s not a perfect system.  There's the occasional kink in the armor of civility."

Ed grins until he looks down at his plate.  The pleasant smell precluded onions, but their chopped presence wasn't expected.  Oswald had long since taken to cooking with onion powder for him.  But it’s not a problem, thinks Ed with a sigh.  He pushes the offending bits to the side and digs in.  "This is delicious," he says honestly.

Oswald lights up, "Thank you.  You know how I've always valued your opinion."

Ed frowns at the phrasing.  Perhaps a friendly reset button was too much to hope for, so soon.  "I'm glad you still do, after everything.  Tell me this isn't to butter me up for something unpleasant.  Fries isn't on standby, is he?"

Oswald snorts out a laugh, "No.  Not hardly.  Not this time.  And Ivy reported she found Cat.  So, you won't be buried again anytime soon.  I've given you back your freedom, more or less.  You're free to do whatever you want… but you still came back here."

Ed tilts his head while studying Oswald carefully.  He looks nervous and with Oswald that usually entails talking to someone, he's afraid of or someone with the upper hand.  And as they've established in the last year, that is not Edward.  So, this is new.  This jittery embarrassed mess of a man is hoping for something too.  Ed gives him a crooked smile, "I did indeed return.  And you had already made dinner.  You knew I'd come back, of course.  Nowhere else to go with the city in shambles.  No fun to be had.  Nothing to titillate me outside that door."   He takes a careful drink of his wine and watches Oswald over the glass.

The Penguin has ticks and Ed's memorized most of his tells.  The fidgeting and foot tapping all say Oswald doesn't want to be questioned.  He wants to say something he's rehearsed in his head and run away, possibly to a hot bath.  "I believe if the Family is amendable, you could still prove yourself an asset.  I learned today that Butch and Barbara killed each other, and Tabitha's taken over the Sirens.  There's been a lot of shake-ups in power with the virus and the Owl mischief.  And I have to find order again.  Falcone is not coming out of retirement, but he requires peace of mind to keep him out of things.  Without the City Council in his pocket, that's shaken."

"Easily done.  All of Gotham’s rising politicians wade out of the same corrupt cesspool."  He pushes another onion into the pile and eats another mouthful.

Penguin nods, "And Fish is thinking of expanding her influence to other stomping grounds.  I keep the monsters.  But she's keeping some influence.  The right to call on me whenever it suits her, the same old, same old.  I'm not her umbrella boy or son or anything like that.  But Mama won't just retire to Somewhere Sunny Florida, oh no.  She's going wreak havoc elsewhere on my dime.  Normal people do that, don't they?  Provide for their parents to retire someplace and live out their dreams."

"She's not your mother, Oswald."

"God!  I know that!"  He takes an angry drink before frowning down at his plate, "And I haven't forgotten anything she did.  She's left more than one scar on me, including my leg.  And she's hardly much older than me, to begin with.  Damn it, if everyone would just stop..."  he pauses and gives himself a second to compose himself.  "I don't like when people presume to understand my machinations.  Keeping her close these last few months was necessary.  How do you think I endeared myself to her in the first place?  And what are you doing?"

Ed drops the subject turns back to his dinner.  "Nothing."  Ed realizes he's pushed quite a few onions to the side now but deliberately takes up a forkful with one and chews happily.  "Mm, it’s delicious."

Oswald pales in front of him and covers his face, "How!?  How could I forget that!  We've cooked for each other a thousand times and I know your one peeve is the texture... what the..."  He slaps the table.  "How could I let a few months with Didi's untrained pallet let me forget something like that?"  He tries to pull the plate from Ed but fails at getting it back.

Ed turns away from the table, plate in his hand.  "It's fine, Oswald!  Really, its cooked perfectly.  No complaints.  It’s a minor thing, that doesn't affect my enjoyment at all."

"Liar."  Oswald gets up and takes up his barely touched food.  "I'm going to bed."

"No," pleads Ed.  "Stay and talk with me a while.  Please?  I miss this so much."

Oswald hobbles to the kitchen and dumps his plate in the sink and turns off the radio just as Billie Holiday begins to crone.  Ed sighs and wipes his mouth.  Breaking the shell is going to be harder than anticipated.  But baby steps.  He gets up and follows Oswald to the kitchen and turns the radio back on and holds out his hand, "Come dance with me."

Oswald rolls his eyes, "Sure, Ed."  He starts to move past Ed, "Let me get my magic dancing shoes."

"Wait, no," says Ed.  "Just stay here.  And sway with me.  See?"  He takes Oswald by the hand leads him to the empty space between the kitchen island and the table.   "Like this."  He knits their fingers together and rests his left hand at the top of Oswald's lower back, pulls him close enough to be toe to toe.  And just as he said, despite neither of them being very graceful, they sway gently to the slow-paced, sad song. 

Oswald holds himself stiffly at first but after a minute relaxes in Ed's arms.  "This is different.  I've never done this with anyone but my mother.  And not like this... not even with two good legs."

They dance to two more songs while Ed presses his cheek to the soft feathery hair at the top of Oswald's head and hums along with the old words of love and loss.  There's no fancy turns or dips, but they are close and Ed couldn't be more content.  He's missed this too.  It's hard at night, getting ready for bed and knowing Oswald won't join him, just after he realized they fit so well together.  Ed doesn't sleep well in the penthouse. 

Oswald closes his eyes and rests his head on Ed's shoulder.  He sings along too until the last song croons, 'I love you, I love you, I love you'. He gets silent and pulls away.  "Goodnight Ed.  Thank you for the dance.  We have much to speak of in the morning, so get some rest.  I have quite the job in mind for you."  He walks away and leaves Ed grasping where his hands were full of Penguin a moment ago, before dropping them and sighing.

 

* * *

 

Ed goes to bed and prepares himself for another restless night of tossing and turning.  Fighting off voices and figments and nightmares.  He thinks about taking something to help him sleep, knowing Oswald keeps sleeping pills in his medicine cabinet but doesn't want to bother him. 

He's surprised he dozes after a while, despite his mind turning with plots and possibilities.  He dreams of Grundy street and the kids setting fire to the old building and has a nightmare about Dr. Strange experimenting on his mind.  He wakes with a jolt to quiet tapping at his door.  Ed stares at the door before realizing its rude not to answer, "Come in."

"Are you certain?"  Oswald peeks in the doorway, his favorite cap on his head and a thick robe wrapped around him.  Ed takes in the sight and wonders if he's just stepped out the tub.  Oswald rarely goes to sleep without a gown or bottoms but his bare legs are apparent.  He steps in and closes the door behind him.  "I want to hear two things from you."

"Anything."

"No.  Don't do that.  Don't just give me the answer you think I want to hear.  I'm being serious.  And I need honesty.  Okay?"

"Okay."

Oswald comes closer and sits on the bed, "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?"

Ed thinks back to weeks ago when they were in bed, telling each other everything.  And he held back to play a part.  Talking and talking about nothing when he couldn't be himself and how that grated on his nerves, "Soon.  After I made sure there'd be no more clones.  I didn't want to keep pretending to be someone else.  I was going to tell you everything when I was sure you wouldn't hate me for it."

"Why?"  Oswald looks down at his hands.  "You pulled a gun on me again, minutes after making love to me just before I froze you.  You put so much stock into becoming the Riddler after you thought you killed me.  If Ivy's truth serum was working, and you were telling the truth about loving me... why would you go through all of that?  Why not just tell me right away what happened to Didi?  Why not kill me anyway?"

Ed sits up, pulls his knees to chest thinks seriously on the question, "Why not kill you anyway?  After realizing properly just how much you mean to me?  You were right on the docks.  Killing you, killed a part of me.  And I couldn't shake it.  Nothing could shake the loss of you.  And having a chance to do anything over... I took the chance that a puzzle would work in my favor.  If you moved on.  If I was so replaceable... just spreading my arms and announcing 'I'm back' wouldn't do, would it?  You'd have killed me anyway.  Like you said with Fish, I had to endear myself to you again.  And when I thought it was working, I would tell you everything."

Oswald sighs and crosses his arms, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.  You were just going to wait until I didn't mind the thought of you living anymore?"

Ed grins, "Well you haven't killed me yet."

"Yes, there's that.  But since you murdered Didi and had the island sacked, it’s hard to replace you.  At the moment."

Ed's face fall, "Ouch."

"I thought at one point I couldn't make a move without you around, but that was weakness remember?  Loving you became a crutch.  Depending on that big head of yours when I know for a fact I'm far more talented— oh don't make that face.  It’s true," he smiles and Ed lets him have it.  "I won't let myself be that weak again Ed.  And this thing between us now.  We'll be at arm’s length.  I need to know you understand and accept that.  Don't cross me again.  Don't try to manipulate me or force me, my friend.  And I promise I'll let you live.  We can even shake on it."  He extends and his hand and Edward stares at it.

What Oswald is asking for is perhaps a sane, healthy, respectful relationship between mutual partners.  And what Didi did was blatant in his manipulation.  Ed betrayed him more than once.  And going back to the way things were, was his intention, wasn't it?  Going back to the early days when they could rely on each other without all the messy complicated feelings stirring trouble between them.  Ed stares at the hand but doesn't take it.  Because at this point he knows he can't sleep without listening to Oswald's heartbeat. 

"Well.  I suppose that says it all."  Oswald pulls away and stands up, and Ed can't stand the look of disappointment on his face.  "Have a good sleep Ed, and please collect your things in the morning.  Don't go back to my father's house or the Iceberg lounge."

"Wait.  It’s not that I won't promise to not hurt you again.  Please.  It’s just... I can't promise to accept just being your friend again.  I want you, Oswald.  We could go anywhere in the world together.  Just the two of us."  He pleads with his eyes and Oswald looks surprised to hear such a thing.

"Leave Gotham?  This is my home.  I could never just leave it.  It’s a pile of ashes now but I'll rebuild it and it'll be all the better for it.  If you don't want to stick around for the hard work, I'll let you.  But you'll have to promise not to come back,” he grinds his teeth together at the end of it, hardening himself to what he just said.

Ed shrinks away when instinct tells him to lash out, grab Oswald and shake sense into him.  He backs up to the headboard and wishes he could melt into it, solder himself in place and never leave when hours ago he was begging to go free.  "I'm not leaving you."

Oswald rolls his eyes, "So stubborn!  Fine.  Sleep on it.  Maybe a few nightmares will make you see sense."  He mutters something in his mother's tongue and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

Ed does have plenty of nightmares that night and he can't be certain one of late Gertrude's old curses didn't work after all.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-15-18

Morning is tense in the apartment.  Ed woke up and showered and dressed around six.  He laid out his ingredients for breakfast, cleaned up Oswald's mess from the night before, and made a list of things needed.  But when he tried to enter Oswald's room to peruse his closet and pick out a nice suit, he found the door locked.  Locked doors are not a problem for Ed, per se, but this one represents something else.  Oswald erected a barrier and all he asked for last night, was for Ed not to force his way past it.  Ed knocks on the door and when he gets no answer, he walks away.

He makes breakfast, eats quickly and leaves a covered dish for Oswald on the counter.  Then he snatches Oswald's hat and one of his canes and leaves, intent to do some business of his own.

The first thing on his to-do list is to crash the GCPD.

* * *

 

"OH, For the love of virgin nuns!!"

"Harvey."

"What are you doin' here, screwball?  Or better yet, here..."  He dingles his keys, "Let yourself into a holding cell and get comfortable while I'll call you a padded cab to Blackgate."

"You're a funny little man, Harvey.  A real cut up.  Where's Jim?  I can't imagine he's still missing after all this time.  He's like Oswald in some ways.  He desperately wants to see some kind of order in this place."

"As supposed to lighting things on fire and blowing up the residents."

"Exactly."  Grins Ed.  "They're so boring sometimes, our dear besties.  Now, where's Jim."

"He's on leave.  I don't know when he'll be back, but I'll call you first thing.  You need anything else, Ed?  A pillow, cookies?  Someone get the cop-killer here a coffee."  Ed steps to the side just as someone throws a hot coffee in his direction.  Harvey shrugs, "The new delivery system for scumbags is a work in progress."

"Fine," says Ed stepping over the mess.  "No Jim Gordon.  But isn't Mr. Fox here attending to business?  As I understand, you're taking in patients here, not at the hospital."

"What of it," Harvey narrows his eyes and points at Ed, "I swear to god, if anything blows up in the next twenty seconds, I'm breaking your skinny neck.  And not a soul in this bullpen will care."

"That hurts, Harv.  I'm not armed or planning anything elaborate.  What's left of the force has its hands full does it not?  New recruits at the academy are down right now.  It'll take years to bring your numbers back... It just wouldn't be fair, to hit you when you’re so low.  I happen to have some useful information and only Lucius or Jim can properly utilize it.  So, if you don't mind..."

"Yeah, yeah.  Fine.  I'll give you one.  Perez!  Escort Mr. Nygma to medical and if he so much as crosses his damn beady eyes, sit on him."

A larger than life, former wrestler standing at seven feet tall gets up from his desk and roughly pushes Ed back to his old stomping grounds.

Lucius is at work in the lab while two doctors are administering the cures to citizens and exposed officers.  Lucius looks up from his microscope and sighs.  "You again.  The men out there were betting Penguin would have killed you by now.  Kudos on the not being dead thing."

"What moves easy with the current, fights the jets and eats its reflection on a scale?"

Perez scratches his head, "I don't know.  What?"

Ed rolls his eyes, "Not for you, Hulk.  Foxy, here knows the answer.  Right?  How's our old friend doing?"

Fox doesn't answer but turns back to his slides, "If you’re wondering what I caught on to while I was held, you could just ask."

"Oh," says Ed, sitting down at watching him.  "But where's the fun in that?   But to answer the question..."

"It's fine.  Everything is going to work out fine.  My place is here, and I answer to no higher power.  My family is safe.  My friends are safe.  And the cure is going out as fast as it can."

"As fast as it can."

"Yes."

"Which is to say."

"Yes."

Ed grins, "Thank you, Foxy.  I'll see what I can do about that.  For all our sakes."

"Yours?  Why is this an interest to you."

"Someone I care about would like stability sooner rather than later.  I'm going to gift wrap it."

"Good luck with that, considering this is all your fault in the first place.  As I understand it, every gang in Gotham has their sights set on you, for ruining their easy thing.  And there’s no love here or city hall.  You really outdid yourself this time.  So, I’ll say it again, Ed.  Get some help, I mean it."

In all honesty, Ed feels immune to Foxy's repeated requests for him to get help by now.  He leaves, intent to follow his leads.

But things go sideways outside the station when someone clubs him over the head, bags him and shoves him into the back of a car.  If Harvey and the cops saw anything, they're not lifting a finger to help.

* * *

 

The bag is pulled off when the vehicle stops fourteen minutes and seven seconds later, about nine blocks away from the station at an intersection.

Ed opens his eyes to the sight of a handsome young man with a big afro and the clean-cut sort of uniform that says he's taken a day off from prep-school to kidnap people.  He hands Ed a bottle of water, "Sorry, sir.  I myself thought that was a bit harsh."

"No, no, that was fine.  First time kidnapping someone?"

The young man smiles with his dimples, emotive hair, and bright eyes.  Ed wonders if the policies he and Oswald put in place to occupy Gotham's youth were scrapped altogether by that idiot Aubrey, leaving this kid vulnerable to the underworld when he should be taking an art class somewhere.  The kid sits back and looks Ed up and down, "You're shorter than I thought you'd be.  But then the Penguin is rather tiny by comparison."

"You could say that.  May I ask..."

"Oh of course, how rude of me."  He extends his hand and Ed accepts it, giving him a good strong shake before sitting back with his water.  The boy smiles, "I'm Alex Dumas.  When my family asked about bringing one of my cousins back to Gotham for Theo's nonsense, my aunt protected me and my sisters.  Sent us even further away to keep us out of the madness.  I'm glad for her help, but my cousin Silver came home and she was not in the best of ways, sir.  My sisters are looking after her."

Pieces in the new puzzle start to fill in, "Your auntie Tabitha?" 

"Yes, sir.  My auntie Tabitha."

"And your uncle Theo..."

"My father.  But my parents divorced years ago.  He's never been a proper father figure to me."

"I see."

"I doubt it.  Still here I am.  And I can't for the life of me imagine returning to this city full time.  It's gross here.  Like everything is grimy and dark.  I've never seen anywhere like it.  And I've been around."

"Yes, I know what you mean.  And as interesting as this is, creating a rapport with a Dumas, after what I did to your auntie Tabitha."

The boy giggles and Ed figure he's about fourteen or fifteen years old.  "I sent her a hook and eyepatch for her birthday.  She didn't think it was funny."

A laugh escapes Ed, "Well that's in poor taste, young Alex.  What can I do for you and your previously one-hand clapping, Aunt?"

Alex sits up even straighter and looks Ed in the eye, "How much of the city is vulnerable right now?  Do you have the numbers?"  He waits for a tic before answering his own question.  "There are eighteen gangs embroiled in some kind in-fighting right now. The old Irish neighborhoods burned out their leadership.  There are clear vacuums of power all over the city.  And Tabitha wants to approach the Penguin with a deal to cement her territory and expand under his protection.  I agreed to help with this.  As the heir to father's fortune, I can back some real money into rebuilding the city.  And I don't have grudges against the Wayne boy or Falcone.  So, you two get a clean slate."

"Interesting prospect, young man."

"I thought so.  In fact, I have a lunch planned with Bruce Wayne today. I hear he's serious for a kid."

"Very.  And reaching out to him after what your family did the last time won't be easy."

"I don't imagine it would be.  But I'll have a backup."  He grins, "And here's your stop."  The car stills and the door opens.  "Pleasure meeting you, Mr. Riddler.  I'll see you again soon."

Ed's pulled out by the collar and a tall, bald woman with blue tattoos on her face.  He’s pushed on to the sidewalk and she slams the door and circles back around to the driver’s side. 

Ed watches them go, and wonders who else is going to come clawing after Gotham's remains.  He looks around and realizes he's outside of the library where Isabella worked and something in chest gets tight.  He starts to turn away, but a pair of familiar silhouettes catch his eye.  Ed walks up to door and storms inside.  Or he tries to, in any case.  The door opens with a cheery chime and closes with a soft click.

Oswald and the Not-Isabella turn to him with matching looks of exasperation.  Terri dressed differently, her hair cut short and dyed black, she looks different again.  But she's wearing the same glasses she wore while stabbing Ed like a pincushion.  "What is he doing here?"

"I don't know.  I thought he was still moping around the GCPD.  The car hasn't left it."

"You're keeping tabs on me," says Ed.

Oswald and Terri share another look and Ed feels his face turning red.  Oswald throws up his hands, "No, Ed.  I just really like that car."

Dr. Eckhart laughs and swats Oswald's arm, "Don't make fun."  She recovers and looks Ed up and down, "Ah, but look at him.  He looks so lost and alone.  How are you feeling Edward?"  She takes a step forward and Ed cautiously takes a step back.  "Oh, no.  Hey.  Don't be afraid of me.  I couldn't hurt a fly.  I mean, I could kill one and bring it back to life, but I wouldn't hurt anything really."  She nods and looks back to Oswald for support.

Oswald steps forward and stands between them, "It’s not that, Dr. Eckhart.  As you know, you pass more than a little bit for his late loves.  Right, Ed?  And since we don't believe in ghosts, you’re kind of a scary to look at despite the attractive packaging."

She giggles and bops her hair, "You think I'm attractive Mr. Cobblepot?"

Ed's stomach flips.  Seeing the Not-Isabella flirt with Oswald is the last thing he expected to find today.  He stares wide-eyed, "Stop that."  He clears his throat, "Di-di... Did you know that ah, Galavan had a son?"

Terri has turned her moony eyes on Oswald and helps him to a seat and offers him a drink.  Oswald thinks her before answering the question, "Yes of course I knew.  I had Butch and Gabe hire spies to dig into everything about Galavan.  His ex-wife Regina left him fourteen years ago with twin girls and a little boy.  They disappeared somewhere in Barcelona.   It was impossible to trace their whereabouts."

"They're here.  Or at least the son is.  He extended an invitation to you to do business with him on behalf of his Auntie Tabitha."

"Really?"  Oswald drinks his water while Terri has the audacity to sit on the arm of his chair and look down adoringly.  Ed could just throw up.  On her shoes. 

"Yes really.  He could be quite the investor if he really inherited the Galavan resources.  Would you rather he and Tabitha got to plotting on their own?  Tab's not really a forward-thinking person.  I guarantee you she'll run things into the ground if she can afford to do so."

Terri chimes, "This boy Galavan could be useful."  She leans down to whisper in Oswald's ear.  Ed seethes while Oswald changes from uninspired to gleeful.  He tries not to be obvious about how much it grates, but Terri winks at him as she gets up and passes him to the door.  "I'll call you soon to arrange things.  Put anything you check out back on the desk."  She exits with the little door chime and Ed turns to Oswald.

He's still sitting there with a smug look on his face, "My this is all good news, Ed.  You've done great today."

"Why was she here?"

Oswald points to the desks, "It's hers.  I pushed a few public wheels and now it’s her new cover.  I hope you don't mind."

"I mind quite a bit."  Ed looks around the space, looking for any trace of Isabella left on the shelves.  "That's not right, Oswald."

The Penguin takes another sip of his water, "I'm not in the business of doing the right thing, Ed. I do what has to be done.  And for the moment, I need her here and out of everyone's radar under a new name.  In fact, we're just putting together her new persona... What should we call her?  She was thinking Harriet."

"Like Ozzie and Harriet?!"

Oswald laughs, "Perhaps.  That's a funny thought.  I'll pass it along."

"I wish you wouldn't..."

"Oh Ed, stop.  Why are _you_ here?"

"I don't know... I was dropped off.  Galavan seemed to think this was where I was going."

"Ah!  He wanted you to pass the message on.  Well, consider it done, friend.  You're free to go."

"And you?"

"I've some reading to do."

"I can stay."

"I rather you not."

"Oh.”

Ed could curl up into a ball and cry.  The only thing stopping him is a loud crashing noise outside.  Ed turns to the door, half hoping the evil Not-Isabella has crashed her car.  Instead, it looks like the military police have started crashing with an angry mob.  The citizens throw bottles and bricks and shout about their rights and freedoms.  The soldiers, predictability, escalate things. 

“Gotham,” says Ed, watching as two armed and armored soldiers drag a skinny kid out from the crowd, mace her and beat their shields with batons.  Media shows up at the scene and things only appear to get worst.

Oswald joins him at the door.  “Well.  Fuck.”

“Yeah.  Is there still a mini-fridge?  We might be here a while.”

Oswald grins up at him, “Nothing doing, Ed.  I have places to be and things to do.”  He opens the door and walks out into the noise and chaos.

And Ed only grins before following him into it.

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-15-18

Oswald’s clever plan to escape unnoticed involves a little misdirection and stealing a car.  Not just any car, but a police car.  While the officer is still in it.  All it takes is Ed making a little show of concern over the pointless violence and drawing the media over to him while he theatrically condemns it.  The soldiers turn on the media and regular police are called in.  The citizens, the media, the local PD, and the military all clash on the street.  And with all the noise and tear gas, Oswald knocks one officer over the head and climbs into a squad car.

Ed climbs into the backseat, grinning, “Aren’t we going to let him out?”

“No,” says Oswald taking the man’s hat and putting it on his head.  “We’re taking him for a spin too.  Hold on.”  He laughs while the car takes off, crashing through a barricade and flying down the wrong side of the street.

It’s the most fun Ed has had in long while, especially when other officers start to pursue them. Just as it looks like they might be cornered, Oswald opens the passenger door and pushes the unconscious officer out into the street.  The pursuit stops as the cops slow down to tend to their fallen brother and Oswald speeds off down the empty streets.  “This is like old times.  You know, one my first jobs was stealing cars for Butch?  Years and years ago… cars for the underlings to dump bodies in.  Nothing fancy, but sometimes I would get one that I could hold on to for hours.  Man,” he sighs like grand theft auto was a fond childhood memory.  “Good times.”

Ed looks back at the path of destruction in their wake.  “That’s nice, Oswald.  But don’t you think we should dump this car and find something a little less obvious?”

Oswald nods, “Good idea.”  He turns the car into an alley where a few other cars line the street.  He gets out and lets Ed free, “Come on.  Pick one.  Any one.”

Ed frowns, “Couldn’t we just call a car or take a cab?”

Oswald shoves him, “What would be the fun in that!  Come on!  Pick!”

Ed rolls his eyes but gives in, “Okay fine.  That one,” he says pointing to an ugly green sedan. 

Oswald claps him hard on the back before hobbling over and trying the door.  When it doesn’t give he holds out his hand and Ed sighs again before giving him his cane.  “Thank you.”  He smashes the back window and reaches up front with the can to open the door.  “There we go.”  He climbs in and lays down to hotwire the car and Ed counts the seconds until the car is purring.  It's impressive timing for someone out of practice.

Ed climbs in on the other side, “I left a perfectly nice car at the GCPD.”

“And I have a limo and an armored car on call with professional drivers.  This is about _fun_ , Ed.  I could use a break.  Some time to clear my head about things.”  The Penguin is all smiles while he almost mows down old ladies and heads further away from the safety of their known cohorts.  They reach the edge of the city at one the blockades and Oswald waves himself through.  “Hiya Hal.”

The officer at the gate merely nods and let him pass.

Oswald grins back at Ed, “I thought it prudent to make sure at least one of mine was at all the outposts.  Just in case I had to make a quick getaway.”

“Is that what this is?”  Ed wishes the answer could be, ‘ _Yes Ed, we’re running away together’_ , but he’s not that delusional.

But then Oswald turns to him, “I know where to go!  If there’s nothing else you had to do today… we could get some fresh air at this little cabin I know.”  He smiles good-humoredly.

“That sounds lovely, Oswald.”  Ed smiles back carefully.  “And how long are we staying at this cabin?”

“I don’t know.  Until…” he stops hands with both hands off the wheel while he looks out at the stretch of road ahead, unblinking, “Until I know for sure I’m not going to kill you or have you killed.  Because honestly, it’s up in the wind right now, Ed.”

“Oswald…”

“Don’t.  Interrupt.  Me!”  He slams his fists on the wheel.  “I have a had a hell of a day, Ed.  It’s not even noon yet.  Let’s start with you telling me why you went to GCPD this morning.”

Ed stammers before remembering, “Foxy.  I needed to know if he knew anything about Fish’s plans.  You said she was leaving last night.  And I wanted to know where Jim went.”

“And you didn’t think to just ask me?  You had to go sneaking around behind my back because that’s what it looked like this morning.”

“ _What_!  First of all, you were tailing me, after you told me I was ‘set free’, and I still have some connections to make.  Nothing makes any sense anymore, I’m barely holding onto my sanity, Oswald.  I feel like I could snap at any second.”

“Oh, I see,” nods Oswald.  “It’s a bit like having someone control your whole life, manipulating you and engineering terrible things to happen time and time again.”

Ed takes a deep breath and sinks into his seat, “I don’t know how many times I’ll have to apologize.   I did recover your father’s remains and put them to rest properly, you know.  And I’m trying to make things right.  However long it takes you to trust me again…”

“That’s just it, Ed!  I don’t think it’s possible.  It's why I came to you last night with the deal.  I can’t trust you or _anyone_ else anymore.  And with you, love is just a… it's fueling.  It’s toxic and wrong between us I can’t let you get back in my head, Ed!  You want to leave the city, fine.  We’re going to find a nice place for you to bury your head in the sand, I’m going back to Gotham and I will be doing everything I have to do, by myself.  That’s the only way.”

“No,” cries Ed.  “I want to be at your side, god.  Why are you doing this again… I don’t…”  Ed gets distracted by sight of Didi in the backseat mouthing ‘I told you so’.  He stares at the delusion while the fake moves up to Oswald’s seat.

 _“You know you can’t reason with him, he’s an emotional mess.  He has to be put down.  Controlled.  Tied up.  Maintained.  Well-dicked to within an inch of his life._ ”  The thing grins at Ed, _“And if you weren’t such a pussy, you’d do what has to be done.  This narcissistic little bird needs his wings clipped.  Chop, chop, Eddie.”_

“No…,” says Ed while shaking his head.  He covers his eyes and turns away, “No.  I’m not like that.”

“What,” says Oswald.  He looks in the rearview mirror and around the car.  “Ah.  You’re seeing things.  God, I wonder if I should have let Hugo have you in the first place.  You need help, Ed.”

“Stop saying that!”  Ed shakes his head, “I can control it.  I can be myself.  And just myself.  I’m not going to turn into Didi.  I’m not going to hurt you.  I promise, Oswald.”

Oswald shakes at the wheel, his shoulders trembling while tears roll down his face, “It doesn’t matter at this point, Ed.  He wasn’t you to start with.  And I knew that.  He wasn’t clever or tactful or subtle when he tried to seduce me, I let him because I _missed_ you.  And I was scared that everyone who’s ever told me I didn’t deserve love, was right.  I couldn’t feel anything and I didn’t care and sometimes…. Sometimes I couldn’t say no.  Or it didn’t matter.  And sometimes I just slept and slept and I would wish I wouldn’t wake up.  You don’t understand at all, Ed.  It doesn’t matter it wasn’t you, because it was everything you are to me.  Controlling and sneaky and manipulating.  And I won’t go back to that Ed.”  He wipes his eyes with his face, “No matter how _gentle_ you are now, or how many times you apologize for hurting me.  I will not go back to that hell.”

Ed closes his eyes and rocks in his seat, trying to think of anything that will miraculously fix his relationship with Oswald.  But he comes up with nothing.  They’ve been having the same argument for ages now and nothing works.  Nothing he does can erase the past.  Ed slumps in the seat rest his head on the window, giving in.  “Okay.  Stop the car.  Let me out.”

“No,” says Oswald.  “I need to make you disappear.  And I have just the man for the job.”

Ed resigns himself.  He covers his ears to block out the sound of Didi and Kristen laughing in the backseat while Isabella sits between him and Oswald, looking sad and sorry for him.  He blocks out everything until his vision turns white and there’s nothing at all.

* * *

 

Ed comes to with a slap to the face.

“God.  I thought you were dead.  Wake up.  And get out of the damn car,” Oswald is curt with him as he climbs out and slams the door.

Ed looks around where they’ve parked.  A misty, old farmhouse.  Complete with cawing crows, strawmen, and wind chimes.  Ed doesn’t recognize the place, it’s not one of Oswald’s old safehouses.  It’s something new.  “Where are we?”  he asks as he follows Oswald up to the house.

Oswald ignores him, choosing to bang on the door with the cane, “Open up it’s the police.”  He turns back to grin at Ed like he told a particularly funny joke.  He starts the bang on the door again, but it opens.

Ed stares at their host, “Jim?”

“Ed.  Oswald.”  He looks unsurprised to see them, standing in the doorway, naked but for a towel around his waist.  “What are you doing here?”

“I need your help, friend.  Please, may we come in?”  The polite inquiry is wasted as he barrels past Jim without an answer and Ed follows suit.  They all settle in the living room while Jim looks confused but unworried.

“I miss a call or something in the shower?”

“Hardly,” says Oswald as he takes the liberty of poking a finger in Jim’s chest.  The contact is minor but comfortable.  And Ed sees red, watching them interact.  “I’m parched.”

Jim rolls his eyes, “How rude of me.  I’ll get you some water, Ozzie.”  He gives them a tight smile and pads away into the kitchen, with his feet still wet.

“What the hell,” hisses Ed.  “Why is he here?  _Where_ is here?  What are we doing?”

“We are correcting our problem, Ed.  Be nice.”

“No!”

“Boys,” says Jim while adjusting his towel with one hand and handing Oswald his glass with the other.  “Not that I’m not thrilled to have some company, but I just got in, I kind of wanted to sleep.  So, if we could get to why you’re here.”

“Of course,” says Oswald batting his eyes.  Ed feels like he could throw a chair.  Oswald’s little crush on the detective has always been obvious, but this is ridiculous.  Oswald sits down on the sofa and pats the seat beside him.  Ed starts to rush forward to join him, but Jim beats him to it.  The prick.  Oswald pats his bare knee.  “I don’t mean to put you out, friend.  But I need a favor.”

Jim sighs and rolls his eyes, then crosses his leg, stretches in the seat throws a casual arm behind Oswald’s neck.  It’s one of those masculine, caveman, jock gestures that Ed absolutely detests.  Oswald seems quite comfortable with it.  “Any way I can say no?”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

Jim smiles down at Oswald, and Ed swears the man is flexing his overdeveloped pectoral muscles unnecessarily.   “What about what I prefer?  Doesn’t that matter?”

“You owe me, Jim.  You owe me several.  Ours is a give and take relationship and you’re so often on the taking side.  I’m feeling a little used.”

“Better that than having you handcuffed somewhere,” says Jim with a smile.  Perhaps Ed’s seeing things, but he thinks it’s a flirty smile.  A downright, slutty smile.  An unnecessary provocation. 

Oswald stares up Jim, eyes red-rimmed from recently crying and leans forward like he’s just found someone who can save him.  And Ed just snaps.  “Stop that!  For the love god!  Can’t you put on a shirt!  And some pants!”

Jim frowns at him, “No,” he drawls before turning back Oswald.  “What’s his deal?”

“His deal is up.”  Oswald backs away from Jim and Ed breathes a little easier.  But only for a moment.  “I want you to escort Edward out of town.  Out of state.  I don’t want him to come back here, and I want you to make sure he’s gone for good, safe and starting a new life, far, far away.”

Jim and Ed yell in unison, “No!”

Oswald stares at Jim while he raises a finger at Ed, hushing him and then grabs Jim by the knee, “Don’t you dare deny me this, Jim.  I don’t ask for much.  And I’ve grown used to our rather shitty idea of friendship.  I’m asking you to do me a solid.  Get rid of Ed, and I’ll let you continue to hunker down here for as long as you need.  Don’t, and I’ll tell Harvey Bullock and the rest of your brave brothers exactly where you are and what you’re up to.”

Jim sighs, “I’m not a courier, Oz.  And he’s a grown man.  I can’t just drop him off some- wait… doesn’t anyone know I’m up in Loeb’s house?”

Oswald looks shocked, “Of course not.  When I hide a friend, I hide a friend.  Now I need you to repay the favor.”

“I have something to say,” starts Ed.

“I don’t care,” says Jim and Oswald in unison.  Jim gets up and paces the floor, runs a hand through his longish wet hair and sighs, while his chest does that unnerving, flexing thing again.  He stops, legs spread and hands on his hips in front of Oswald.  As if he didn’t know the effect he had on some people…  like some short little He-man Jock figurine.  “I’m not road tripping with Ed anywhere.  He tried to kill me and set me up for murder.  He hurt Lee and Bruce and… fuck.  I’m just not doing it.  You and me, we’re on the clear.  As far as I know.  But don’t put this on me, Oswald.  It’s not fair.  I did enough getting him off your monster island before he was dissected.”

Oswald looks sad and broken, but his temper flares worse.  Apparently, no one told Jim Gordon to take care when that particular look crosses the Penguin face.  Ed knowingly takes several steps back.  Gordon flails when Oswald snatches the towel off his waist and drags him down to the couch, wrapping the thing around Jim’s neck and cutting off his air.  It all happens so quickly, there’s little time to be shocked, and Ed has to juggle the thought of helping his old colleague and letting Oswald kill the handsome bastard.  But there’s their present position.  Jim naked and struggling under Oswald while he smiles down.  That’s just not right.

“No!  I’m not doing this!”  Ed rushes forward and wraps his arms around Oswald’s middle, pulling him off and dumping him on a nearby table.  He holds him there and growls while butting heads.  “I’ve put up with a lot of replacements, Oswald.  Victor and _Victor_ and maybe Waylon or Ivy or those punk kids and Fish and the damn waiters… but I’m not doing this!  Not him!”

Oswald recoils from his little list, “What?!  What are you talking about?”

Jim coughs on the couch and Ed looks back where he’s obscenely sprawled.  He tries to block the view with his own body and realizing that won’t work, so he tries to cover Oswald’s eyes.  “I mean that thing… that thing where he just looks at you and acts he’s Atlas come to hold the world upon his beefy shoulders!”

Oswald stops struggling under him and looks up at Ed with a strange expression.

The room is silent until Jim barks out a laugh, then Oswald joins him.  They’re both heaving and snorting and Ed nervously starts to laugh with them.  Jim covers himself with the towel and gets up, waving a hand at them both, “You two…” he snorts while his shoulders shake.  “It’s certainly never boring.  I’m going to go put some clothes on my beefy shoulders.  Have fun, kids.”

Oswald holds his side, still laughing.  He folds forward, resting his head on Ed’s shoulder.  “His beefy shoulders.  Oh, my goodness.”

Ed shrugs, “Well.  You’re always so affected around him.”

Oswald sits up and punches Ed in the chest, “Did you really just… did you imply I sleep with everyone I know or something?  Like anyone would seriously want me?”  He sighs and climbs down off the table, and pushes Ed away.  “I don’t know what to do with you, Ed.”

“Keep me,” pleads Ed.  “Give me another chance.  A real one.  As your lieutenant or friend.  Whatever you want me to be, I’ll even shake on it.”  He falls to his knees.  “It kills me to think of living without you, Oswald.  Just give us some time to work things out.”

Oswald gives a sad look before walking away.

Ed smiles to himself.  It wasn’t a no.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-15-18 At 2 am in the god-damned morning cause I gotta hurry up and post the last two chapters before I go crazy.

Ed gets to stay the night while Oswald makes up his mind.  And Jim hosts to them a shoddy dinner.  Ed lingers on the side while Oswald and Jim talk business.  He mulls over new details and facts he wasn’t privy to before, facts Oswald didn’t think to share.  He kept all the news about Jim to himself.  Lee and Jim were infected and Lee has left the city.  Jim is taking a break from the city altogether but only to get over losing the love his life.  He seems interested to learn about Galavan’s son and declares he might just return to Gotham now.  But Oswald menaces him with a fork, daring him to leave before Ed is left like an abandoned pet out west somewhere.

Ed sits through it all and stews.  Jim excuses himself, citing the fact that he had only an hour of sleep and was beat.  He gives them the couch and the bed in the attic.  “I cleaned out all the dead starlings.  It should be comfortable.  I’ll leave you something to sleep in.  Night guys.”  He pats Oswald on the shoulder before leaving.

Oswald pours himself another drink, “You take the creepy girl’s prison room.  I’ll take the couch.”

Ed shakes his head, “Your leg…”

“It’s no bother.  I’m going to take a bath and who knows.  Maybe Jim will take one look at my sexy knee knobs and throw me on the bed and have his wicked way with me.  Oh boy, I can’t way to hold on to those beefy shoulders.”  He cackles while Ed covers his face with his hands.

* * *

 

The night is long and full of laughter, at Ed’s expense.  He tries to ignore the sound of Oswald and Jim still cracking up over a bottle of wine downstairs.  He remembers the story Oswald told him about the creepy house and where he tries to sleep is contaminated by an untold number of restless little bird spirits.  He gives up on getting any rest and goes downstairs to where Jim seems recovered after a nap and Oswald is dressed in… Jim’s oversized pajamas.  It’s a look Ed has to turn away from, gather himself and turns back with a fake smile plastered on his face.  “Evening, gents.  Still having a laugh?”

Jim kicks out a chair.  “We were just talking about you.”

Oswald rolls his eyes, “No, no, no, no… we were talking about the _former_ Ed Nygma.  CSI, ME something or other.  Not the _Riddler_.”

Jim snickers and Ed snatches up the bottle and downs it himself before sitting down.  “I see my chosen name is still fodder for the GCPD.”

“Your chosen name is ridiculous.  To be ridiculed, therefore…” says Oswald with a snicker.  “And so, we oblige.”

He and Jim hold up their glasses while laughing again.  Ed hates the camaraderie between them and bites his lip thinking of a proper barb.  Something that will pop their little giggle balloon.  “No one else bought the place after what you did to the old couple?”

Jim shrugs, “Loeb’s property.  Oswald bought it all before he was mayor.  And the managers were just a fake couple, they’re on the lam, not willing the place to loved ones.”

Ed raises a brow and looks to Oswald, “Lam?  I thought they were dead?”

“What?!”

“What?” says Oswald.  “I didn’t kill them both.  I managed things like you asked me.”

“For fuck’s sake, Oswald,” Jim drops his glass.  “I thought… damn it.  I don’t know what I thought.”

“Don’t be so naïve.  What else did you think I would do to cover your tracks, hm?  They weren’t nice people, Jim.  I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.  Remember Granny Marge had a shotgun longer than I am tall.  We almost died in this house trying to outrun that pair of geriatric hitmen.”

Jim sighs and gives Oswald a very disappointed look and throws him a tight smile, “That’s true, Oswald.  As always, you remind me the truth of things.  Good night, guys.”  He snatches the bottle from Ed and climbs back up the stairs.

Oswald stares daggers at Ed, “You did that on purpose.  That is exactly what I’m talking about!  Can you even help it anymore?”

Ed throws up his hands, “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.  I no… you’re right.  I’m sorry.”

“I’m sick of hearing your apologies, Ed!  Fuck!”  He throws his glass on the floor and sits back, crossing his arms.  “You know what I learned when I had those two?  They had spent years together, playing man and wife.  _Decades_.  But when I offered them the chance to die as man and wife, old Margie strangled her beloved Jude without a second thought.  There was no love lost for her.  She had a ticket to ride.  Even if it was only to the end of the shotgun…” he shrugs.  “I only had one shell left.”

“Don’t be so cynical.  A marriage of convenience between a common assassin and murderer… that’s not us, Oswald.  I love you.  And I would… I have learned from my mistakes. Honestly.”

“And yet,” says Oswald pointing up the stairwell, “You’d still drive a wedge between me and my one ally.”

“What ally!  He left you in Arkham!  He ignores you, he still thinks he’s better than you—“

“Enough,” says Oswald quietly.  “I’m too tired to deal with you, Ed.  I’m going to the john,” he says raising his hands.  “Don’t be down here when I come back.”  He gets up from the table, holds up Jim’s baggy bottoms with his hands.  The legs are already flipped and curled and he looks… adorable, thinks Ed.  He can’t quit affix anything else to the sight of a Penguin shuffling away in too-big jim-jams.  But they’re not Ed’s.  And that is just wrong.

* * *

 

Ed makes himself scarce, as Oswald requested and returns to the creepy attic with the creepy birds and then sits on the creepy girl’s bed.  He stares at his figments, who’ve all surrounded him in a creepy manner.

“Is this an intervention?”

Kristen laughs from where she sits on the floor, dressed like she’s going to a picnic.  “I don’t know how you can stand going on, day after day.  All the guilt piling up on you, gosh.  How on earth do you do it.”

“Don’t listen to her,” says Dead Oswald.   He’s making it a point to stand beside Dream Oswald and fuss over him.  Dream Oswald seems sleepy and less into the spirit of things.  He has to be shaken repeatedly just to stand up straight.

Didi, or Dark Ed, the Evil Id monster is pacing at the door.  “I wish all of you would shut up.  If you would just shut up, he would listen to me and go do what has to be done.”  He claws at his own face and stomps around, “Pin him.  Tie him down.  Tie him up.  He won’t care.  He’ll want it.  Trust me, he’ll want.  He’ll cry and say no, and he’ll make those empty threats, but I’m telling you.”

“Shut up, Edgelord,” says Isabella rolling her eyes.  She gives Ed a hard look.  “Honestly has he ever given you good advice?  Following his directions is what got you into this mess.  Right, sis?”

“I’m not,” says Kristen on the floor, her poodle skirt spread out and a basket of treats somehow in front of her, “I’m not your sis.  He must know that.  No more than that thing was his brother.  Right, Eddie?”  She tilts her head and her ponytail bounces just so.  And Ed’s heart breaks just looking at her.  And worst, Sleepy Oswald seems drawn to join her on the floor.  They look almost as adorable as the real Oswald’s little penguin walk did earlier.

Dead Oswald snaps his fingers, “Earth to Ed.  Are you listening, friend?  We’ve got big, big problems here.  You’re going to have to decide, tonight, what you want to do.  Playing him against Jim isn’t going to work.  Playing him at all… well.  We’ll have to be more clever than that, won’t we.”  He scratches his head just as Ed scratches his head.

Ed shakes his face and takes off his glasses, hoping they’ll disappear, but with the room blurry, they still appear pixel perfect.  The sight makes his stomach ache and he covers his eyes.  “I just want to be left alone.  Really guys.  Thanks for the help, but not tonight.  Leave me alone.”

“No,” whispers a voice near his ear.  Suddenly Ed is alone, but for Didi hovering over him.  “I’m not going anywhere.  I think we need a change of drivers.  Obviously, you’re way too fatigued.  Take a nap, Ed.”

Ed panics and jumps out of the bed.  “The last time I let you take the wheel, you hid Ms. Kringle all over the GCPD.”

Didi or Evil Id laughs at him, “The last time… what are you talking about?  That was ages ago.  I’ve been so much more influential since then.  So powerful.  It doesn’t matter if you remember, just know that _he_ does.  And if you’d let me help him understand his place again…”

“No!”  Ed grabs a pillow off the bed and throws it through the fake Ed.  “Don’t say things like that!  It’s not true.  I didn’t… I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Oswald.  He knows it.  I’m not Didi, I’m not... I would never give in or let you out, I just wouldn’t.  Not with him.”

The fake Ed rolls his eyes, “You, poor sap.  Who do you think pulled the triggered on the docks?”

Ed claps his hand over his mouth and sinks down to the ground.

“Just tie him up a little.  Nothing bad, like he’s used to with Victor.  And make it clear.  What we want, what I know you want.  And what he’s going to give us.  He can either say yes and go along with it, all smiles for the minions in the morning, or we will wreck him.  And kill him afterward.  Maybe even during.  How do you feel about cold fish…”

Ed screams.  He covers his ears and screams until he can’t hear anything anymore.

A hard shake brings him back.  “Ed!”

Ed opens his eyes to Jim Gordon kneeling in front of him and falls forward, unthinking and sobbing.  “I can’t!  I can’t!”

“What is it, Ed?  What’s wrong.”

“The thing in me.  It wants… it wants me to do unspeakable things all the time and I won’t… I just can’t.  I won’t hurt Oswald.  Not like Kristen.  I can’t let it win again, I can’t, I can’t…”

Jim holds him while he cries and sobs while rambling on without making any sense.  “Kristen?  Something made you… oh.  Hey.   Are you hearing voices, Ed?  Something telling you to harm Oswald?”

“Yes, and I can’t… I can’t…”

“It’s okay, Ed.  Hey, shh,” he rocks Ed holds him and Ed can’t be bothered to mind how close they are.  “Look at me.  You haven’t done anything yet.  It’s okay.  Oswald’s fine.”

“What’s going on,” says Oswald from the doorway armed with a baseball bat.  Ed can’t bear to look at him and hides his face in Jim’s chest.

Jim pats him with a heavy hand while calling out to Oswald, “Everything fine.  Just a nightmare.  Go back to bed, Penguin.  I’mma sit up with Ed a while before we plan on what to do tomorrow.”

“You mean you’ll take him…”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.  Just ah, go on to bed.  Everything’s fine.”

“No it's not,” says Ed scrabbling to keep hold, ironically, of Jim’s beefy shoulders.  “I’m broken.”

“Jim.  What’s going on?”

“Go to bed, Oswald.  I got this.”  He pets Ed on the side of the head and holds him through the racking sobs until Oswald’s leave.  “Okay.  Come on.  You’re staying with me.”

“How?”

“In my bed, until morning.  I’ll keep watch.  Come on,” he pulls Ed up and wraps an arm around him.  “Up and out.  This room is not ah… conducive to healthy thoughts in the first place.”   He walks Ed downstairs to the master bedroom vacated by the late couple and as promised gets him on the bed.  “There, just relax.  Try breathing.”

“I’m breathing fine,” pants Ed.

“No, you’re not.  You’re gasping for air.  Like you’ll pass out any second.”

“No!  Don’t let me do that!”

“Calm down.  Here.”

Jim sits up in a chair nearby, “Rest.  And I’ll keep watch.  Relax, Ed.  Nothing is going to happen to Oswald.  Not in this house.  Not by your hands.”

Ed hears him, but his voice sounds distant and the room is stifling, hot and loud.  Ed curls up on his side, and for the first time ever, he hopes Jim Gordon is strong enough to stop him.

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-15-18

There was one night long ago on Grundy street when Ed woke up to the sound of Oswald sobbing.  Oswald had slid to the floor and was half under the bed, crying big fat tears, hiding like a child from the boogeyman.  Ed had cooed at him, “Penguin, sir?  What’s wrong?  Did you have a nightmare?  Are you okay?”

Oswald had looked up at him strangely.  “No.  How could I be okay after… You… you don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

Oswald had frowned and wiped away his tears.  He lets Ed help him up and they sat on the bed, shoulder to shoulder while he calmed down.  Ed had expected some story, a recounting of what terrible nightmare had disturbed his rest so badly that Oswald sought cover from it in the dark just under the bed. Ed examined his bandages, “You’ve done a real number on this shoulder.  Look at that, you’re all bruised.”  He got up and got his medical things and came back to the bed with a warm smile, “No more trips to Narnia for you, sir.  You almost tore your own arm off.”

Oswald stared and stared at him before cracking a nervous laugh, “Yes I did.  Silly me.  It was just a nightmare.  All’s well now, Ed.  Thank you, friend.”

And it wasn’t a one-off.  There were other nights and some days.

Days where Oswald would hide discomfort and wipe away tears while on the campaign trail.  Nights where he would knock on Ed’s door and join him in bed in the wee hours until sun up.  Ed had put it all down to their blossoming friendship, and later to Oswald’s growing love for him. 

But now, with his mind in tatters, Ed wonders what else he doesn’t remember.  He remembers pulling the trigger and feeling free.  Unencumbered at last, finally free of the person who betrayed him.  Oswald deserved to die.  Oswald deserved pain.  Even as he looked at Ed, pleading for his life and crying about how much he loved him.  Even as Ed lied, and said he didn’t love him back.  Then Oswald looked down at his wound.  And suddenly Ed couldn’t feel anything, not while he pushed Oswald into the river, and not when he watched his first and only friend sink into the inky water.  The moment he later said defined him, but why doesn’t he really remember it?  Why doesn’t he  _see_ himself pulling the trigger?

* * *

 

“ _No_ ,” thinks Ed now opening his eyes.  He’s not sure how long he was out, but he must have dozed off.  He’s surprised to see Jim Gordon asleep on the bed beside him… and himself.  The other Ed is standing across the room, smirking his insufferable smile, glasses off and eyes so dark, it like looking at a stranger.  Ed sighs, and starts to shake Gordon awake.  His hand goes straight through him.

“There you are,” says the other Ed.  “I thought it only fair to tug you around for this particular ride.  Are you ready,” he grins.  He pats himself down like he forgot something, “Ah!  We best get going.  Not a lot of time to work with here.  Come on.  Let’s go get our little bird.”

Ed hurries to follow him, step for step, or beside him, or in front of him.  He’s not sure where he is, he’s there and he’s not there.  He’s walking determinedly to Oswald, and he’s back in the bed with Jim still sleeping.  It’s all too much, and the only thing he’s sure of is he is not in control.

If his Id manifested while he was out before, this must have been what it felt like they dismembered and hid Kristen all over the GCPD.  Ed reaches out, trying to take back his body, but nothing works.

“Don’t bother,” says his body while it stands over the couch where Oswald sleeps peacefully.  “Jimbo was kind enough to give you a little something to keep you calm.  And we’re no stranger to the effects.  It knocks _you_ right out.”

Ed can’t speak and he stares at his hands while they shake Oswald.  He can’t cry or scream or call for help.  He’s powerless to do anything while Oswald wakes up and stares up at Ed, unsurprised to see him.  “What is it now, Ed?”

The Id raises a finger to his lips and shushes Oswald.  Ed’s surprised by Oswald reaction.  He’s gone terribly still and wide-eyed on the sofa.

“You.”

“Me,” says Ed’s mouth.  He holds out his hand, “Get up.  I want to show you something.”

Oswald shakes his head, “I’m not falling for this again.  Leave me alone.  There’s nothing you can do here.  Jim will…”

“Jim is dying, Oswald.  Come see for yourself.  Your old pal is up there seizing, his heart is slowing down and his blood vessels are constricting.  If I don’t cure him in ninety-seven… no, ninety-six minutes, he’s going to die.  And it’ll be just you and me.  All alone way out here, far away from your army of freaks and painfully, unreliable allies.  Just the little bird and me.”

Oswald accepts the hand and gets up on shaking legs.  He limps in front Ed up the stairs and back to the bedroom where Jim is indeed seizing and shaking on the mattress.  Ed feels likes beating his head against the wall, but he still can’t wrestle back control.  The other voices are oddly silent while Ed internally screams for this all to stop.

Oswald slows down as they march up to the attic but he’s pushed into the room.  The door is locked, and the clicking sound echoes in the cavernous space.  Ed tries harder to push outward.  All he manages is a headache.  The other him takes off their glasses and pinches his nose.  When he recovers he looks back at Oswald and grins, “Get on the bed.”

Oswald does as he’s told and sits primly on the edge while staring at the window, “All that screaming up here earlier.  What did you take?”

“Never you mind, Ozzie-kins.  It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters.  He promised me time and time again he wouldn’t hurt me and you’ve been silent.  And I almost thought… I don’t know.  Maybe freezing Ed had broken you.  Maybe you were gone.  Maybe the worst part of his monster was Didi, and we took that away from him.  But here you are again.  What do you want from me this time?”

“You know what I want.  I want what’s owed to me.  What I deserve.  I built you, Oswald.  I gave you everything.  And you floundered over a little thing like him having some floozy on the side.  Everything we were building together, you just let fall apart. You were getting out of hand then, and now you’re just beside yourself, aren’t you?”

Oswald scoffs, “You should talk.”

“Shut up!  That’s your problem, Oswald!  You always think you can talk your way out facing consequences.  But I know better.”  He steps forward and Oswald flinches on the bed, just the slightest bit.  It makes the Other Ed laugh.  He turns around, clapping a hand over his eyes, guffawing and turns back to Oswald hand in mouth.  He bites down hard on his knuckle before pointing at Oswald, “I love it.  I honestly love it.  The conditioning stuck.  Oh, my little bird.  You can still be managed.  You can be wrangled.  Handled.  I knew you could!  You’re like a loaded gun, Oswald.  Pointless without someone to hold you up and pull the trigger!”

Oswald rolls his eyes, arms to the side and gripping the bed while the pajamas falling off his shoulders.  He looks especially small, but every ounce of him exudes defiance.  “If you’re going to try twisting my arm again, I’d prefer it to this, Ed.  Or whoever you are.”

“Lay on the bed!”

Oswald scowls at him, “Are you serious?  After the last time?  I’m not what Ed wants, and how you treated me before is proof of that.  You tricked me…”

“And you loved every minute of it.”  He stalks forward, stripping out of Ed’s t-shirt and standing between Oswald’s knees.  He yanks Oswald by the collar. “Lay down, baby.  I’m here for seconds.”

“ _Pah_ -lease.  Do you really think I’ll just lay down and take it?  Over Jim Gordon?  He’s a friend, but we’re not that close.  Sorry about that.  But like I said.  You’d be better off twisting my arm again.”

“Fine.  Have it your way.”  He grabs Oswald by the neck and throws him face down on the bed.  There’s a little struggle but Oswald is thin and easy to throw around.  His too-big sleeping pants are pulled down and Ed can’t unsee the touchable skin, the clenching pucker of his pink furl.  And he can’t unfeel the reaction in his body, already hard and leaking.  Oswald squirms and gets slapped on the ass for it.  “Uh-ah, pet!  Be still, or this is going to hurt more than it has to.”  He leans down to whisper in Oswald’s ear, pressing himself close, “And when I’m done, I’m throwing you and your friend in the marsh and getting the fuck out of this state.”

Oswald falls forward and sighs, “Then I wish you’d get it over with, minute man.  I rather be ravished and dead than listen to you monologue again.”

Ed wants to stop his hands to stop himself from grabbing Oswald by the hair and turning his head, forcing his mouth open and shoving in two fingers.  Oswald sputters and chokes and tries to turn away.  Ed wants to stop everything and tries even hard to cross whatever veil is keeping him back.  But it’s not necessary.

Oswald kicks out with his good leg, flips them over and sits high on Ed’s chest with a bone, sharpened down to a point.  He pushes it just enough so Ed feels his pulse ticking against it.  “Wake up,” he says desperately with tears in his eyes.  “Wake up, Ed.  And go fix whatever you did to Jim.  And we’ll forget this ever happened.  Do you hear me, Ed?  Wake up!”

Ed struggles against what’s holding him back and finally, there’s some give.  Enough for him to say, “Why?  Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Ed?”

Ed sobs, “Why didn’t you tell me?”  He wraps a hand around Oswald’s wrist while tears fall down his cheeks.

Oswald gasps and climbs off.  He straightens his clothes, pats his hair down as if suddenly concerned with his appearance.  He looks around eyes anywhere but on Ed.  “It’s nothing.  It was nothing.  Are you… you remember?”

“I saw everything.  I couldn’t do anything and I saw myself just… I don’t know what he did to Jim.”

“Ed, no!  Please, you must remember.  Go fix it!”

“I can’t!” 

Oswald lashes out and backhands him, “Now, Ed!”

Ed stammers and climbs off the bed quickly.  He looks around the room, “She was medicated.  There were lots of pills downstairs, in boxes.  Jim cleaned up from here.  Anti-psychotics.  And natural remedies.  Herbs, sedatives.  He must have given me one…” Ed claws his head trying to think, “And then I was out.  I woke up, but I wasn’t me.  I was him and he did things.  Again.  And you know about it.”  He turns to Oswald.  “Tell me, please.  How long has this been going on?”

Oswald gets off the bed and stalks forward grabbing Ed by the arm, “Come on.  There’s no time for that, fix Jim.”

“No,” says Ed.  The other him had a point.  Sometimes you must hold something against Oswald to get him to do what you want.  And right now, Ed just wants the truth.  “A minute ago, you didn’t care if he died.  Now tell me.  What is going on?”

Oswald stomps away, pulling his hair and snarling, “I don’t have time for this!

“You have over an hour, Oswald!  Now talk!”

Oswald growls at him, pointing his finger, “It’s _you_.  It’s always been you!  _You’re sick_!  And not in a nice way, Ed!  You tricked me!  You shot me!  And I always forgive you, and you know it.  That’s why this will never work out.  I told you, I can’t trust you.  When I do, I forgive _not just you_ , but that… that thing inside of you.  And neither of you deserve my love or forgiveness.  You held me up on pedestal one minute and he… told me I was worthless.  And ugly.  And undeserving.  And then you wake up and tell me I was handsome in the same hour,” Oswald chokes on sob turning.  “I took it.  I thought because we were the same.  We’re freaks, but I’m… I’m of one mind all the time.  I know what I’m doing, I don’t apologize for it.  But you couldn’t… you didn’t know.  And I didn’t want you to know.  Even after you— he tricked me.” 

Ed tries, “You mean when I aligned with Babs and Tabitha to orchestrate your downfall.  Your father and the interview….”

Oswald shrinks away and covers his eyes.  He cries into his hand before looking up, shoulders up and sleeves over his hands.  Ed wants to hold him, and he reaches out but Oswald smacks his hand away.   “No, I mean when you came to my room and told me you loved me.  You called me beautiful and forgave me for what’s her name and then you fucked me.  My first time with anyone at all, and it was… I thought it was perfect.  But when you were done, you stood over me and _gloated_.  And then I knew it wasn’t you, and there’d be no memory of it in the morning and I would have to walk around every day with the knowledge.  And he knew it.  And you didn’t, and you wouldn’t care… you didn’t love me.”

“I’m so sor—”

Oswald shoves him, “DON’T!  Don’t do it again!”  He points the bone back at Ed’s throat, “I swear on my mother’s grave, I’ll drive this in you without a second thought!  I don’t want to hear another word from you, Ed.  Go fix Jim!  Or call a goddamned ambulance!  Now!”

Ed trips over his own feet trying to comply, stumbling out of the room and into the hall, mind whirring and overstimulated. 

The other Ed, a figment again, stands near the stairway smirking, _“See what I mean.  I was right.  Let me go back in there and I’ll finish this.  You’re not man enough to do anything about him.  Look at you.  You practically pissed yourself because Mr. Penguin Sir raised his voice.  Pathetic.”_

“Shut up,” says Ed stumbling down the stairs.  He stops and turns to the thing, “Wait.  What did you do to Jim?  Tell me, now or I swear I’ll jump out a damn window before I let you hurt Oswald again.”

The thing narrows his eyes at him, _“Hm.  Well.  I’d hate to be paralyzed for life.  But I doubt we’d die, even from this height.  Have a go at it, Eddie.”_

“Damn it, just…”  Ed blinks back tears that have been coming since the whole ordeal started.  “No.  Leave me alone.  Disappear.  I’ll fix him myself.  I don’t need you.”

“ _Take that back_ ,” whispers the voice in his head.  _“You need me.  I am you.  I am your strength.  I act for the both of us.  Without me, you’d be Mr. Penguin’s bitch.  Without me, he wouldn’t respect you or find you interesting.  Without me, that fucker Dougherty would still be alive and you’d still be panting after that woman like a dog in heat.  No, you need me.  Admit it to yourself and stop hiding.  I thought we’d resolved this issue once before but as soon as I laid down the law with that shiftless little bird, you went right back to repressing me.  Because you’re too scared of what I represent and you are too weak without me, Ed.”_

Ed claps his hands over his ear, “…I’m not.  I’m not weak.  You’re a bastard. You’re what I thought I had to be to get anywhere, but it’s not true.”  He shakes his head, “I don’t need you.  I don’t.”  Ed hurries down the stairs to the boxes where Jim backed away the woman’s things.  Among them are several prescription bottles, all for older antipsychotics, the kind blacklisted with modern medicine reviews.  Ed knows what he’ll do next while popping open one bottle, “Oswald is right.”

_“You’ve got to be kidding me.”_

Ed’s hands shake but he wrestles control back enough to take the pill anyway.  He swallows it dry and shakes his head, “And when this is over, I will find the right one.  And keep you down forever.”

The figment raises his middle finger and rolls his eyes, _“I’ll be back.”_   He fades away and Ed wonders if the drug is working quickly or if the figment is playing him for a fool again.

It doesn’t matter, he thinks.  He shifts through the box and finds one bottle that looks half empty.  “Side effects, seizures and heart failure!”  He snatches it up and grabs the medical bag labeled ‘Margie’ and rushes back up to Jim.  He has some idea of what’s wrong with the detective and pulls up his shirt.  “My apologies, Jim.  This is going to hurt like hell.”

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-15-18

Ed thought it was normal to live his life with a second little voice in his head, correcting him.  Guiding him.  Chastising and berating, praising him on occasion.  Lifting him up when everyone else was determined to kick him down.  He used to look at Oswald, and sigh, thinking this poor man.  Look what his mother did to him, look what Fish did to him.  He’s so wrecked and lost without someone to hold his hand.  So, Ed took Oswald’s hand and thought that he freed him.  But he never looked at himself, and his own need for constant approval.  He paid no mind to that little voice quietly applauding his murders and plotting from the corner of his brain.  And now they’re here.

The house is quiet but for the sound of Oswald thumping, packing a bag and changing into a pair of Jim’s sweats and wrapping up in an old sweater.  Ed revived Jim, but he still needs medical attention and Oswald called for an ambulance to meet them out on the road.  “Hurry up,” says Oswald passing Ed with his eyes downcast. “You drive.  I’ll get Jim.”

Ed nods, agreeing easily to anything Oswald would want at this point.  It’s the least he could do.  They drag Jim out to the car and dump him in the backseat.

“Ow, ow, ow…,” protests Jim weakly.  “Oswald.”

“I’m right here.”  Oswald doesn’t hesitate to join him, wrapping an arm around the detective and checking his face, “We’ll get you back to town.  And you’ll be fine.”

“The hell happened?”

Ed slams the driver’s side door a little too hard.  And sits upright, determined to keep his eyes off the mirror and the image of Oswald plastered to Jim’s side.  “I had to give you a shot of adrenaline.  Your heart was stopping.”

“The hell?”

“It’s no matter,” intercedes Oswald.  He pets Jim on the head and holds him close, rubbing circles on his chest that has Jim moaning and leaning into Oswald’s touch.  “You’ll be fine when we get you to a doctor.  Rest your nerves, friend.  You’re safe.”

Jim does as he was told, and sleeps on Oswald’s shoulder for the duration of the ride.  About twenty miles away from the house, they meet up with the requested ambulance, driven by two paramedics on Oswald’s payroll.  “We’ll take it from here, boss,” assures one young woman.  They pack up Jim and the bag Oswald gathered and slam their doors.  Ed and Oswald watch as they race back to Gotham.

Oswald stands outside the car.  “Get back in.  I’m driving.”

“Somewhere out west?”

“No.  I’m tired.  We’ve had a long and ridiculous night.  I’m going home.”

“Wait,” says Ed still watching the ambulance disappear in the distance.  “There… I need something.”

“Don’t you always.”

“Please, seriously.”  He pleads with eyes and moves to take the wheel again.  “I’ll drop you off at the mansion.  And then… I’m going to see Fish.”

Oswald stares at him, “Why?”

“She’s the only one who knows where Hugo is right?  And I need their help with something.”

“What?”

“I’m going to get better,” smiles Ed.  “Maybe not all at once.  Maybe you still won’t want me, but I’m not going to lose control like that again.  It was terrifying.  Even more so when I just… I can’t let that happen again.  And maybe Hugo could cure me.”

The punch to the face is a surprise.  Ed finds himself on the street while Oswald paces the length of the car, cursing and slamming his fist before turning to Ed and pointing his finger, “What kind of stupid ass plan is that!  You know what kind of monster he is!  How could you even…”

“He changed you once.  Completely.  I didn’t like it at the time.  But like you said, you’ve always been of one of mind.  And something is very broken in me.  I need help, Oswald.”

Oswald kneels in front of him and Ed flinches, half expecting another strike to the face.  “Then I’ll get you some help.  Real help.  From anyone in the damn city.  Not him.  He doesn’t get to lay a finger on you, understood?”

Ed nods, “Yes.  Mr. Penguin.”  He gives Oswald a weak smile before standing up and offering a hand.  “I’m sorry I said that out loud.  But I mean it.  I want to control whatever this is.  I have to.”

Oswald ignores his hand and struggles to get up before going to the driver’s seat.  “I have a better idea.  Come on.  I have to get out of Jim’s baggy underwear before someone who matters sees me like this.”  He flaps his hand, “I look like an oversized child.”

“You look cute.”

Oswald rolls his eyes, “Shut up, Ed.  And get in the damn car.”

* * *

 

They don’t drive long, headed for a suburb just outside the city.  The kind with gated neighborhoods and fancy, sprawling lawns one would expect in the Midwest.  Oswald stops at the gate and punches in a pin code.  Ed doesn’t recall them having a safe house so far from Gotham but deduces it’s the home of a cohort or someone who owes the Penguin a favor.  They pull up into a driveway already crowded with two cars and a van.  “What is this?”

Oswald doesn’t answer him as he climbs out and goes to the massive front doors and rings the doorbell. 

A tiny, gray-haired, black woman, wrapped in a flowery housecoat with rollers in her hair answers the door.   “Osvaldo!”

Oswald grins and accepts her embrace, “Grandma Moon.”

“Come inside, Baby.  It’s ass-early in the morning.  What on earth are you doing here?”  She ushers them inside and they step over two dead men in the foyer.  “Oh, don’t mind the mess.  The cleaners are here to deal with it.”

“I was wondering what they were doing outside.  What did you get up to, Grandma Moon?”  Oswald wags a finger at her and she laughs.

“I was minding my own business.  No one bothers me out here, you know.  I have excellent security and very good guards, but these boys weren’t satisfied with being turned away.”  She steps on another man while leading them through her house.  The living room is blood splattered and several men in overalls are cleaning up the mess and wrapping bodies in plastic.  “And I was sleeping so good!  Don’t you hate it when that happens?”

Oswald nods along and follows her to the kitchen.  “It’s the worst.  But here.  Sit down and I’ll fix you a cup of tea, Grandma Moon.  You had enough exercise for one night.”  She swats his hands but sits down anyway.

“What brings you out here Osvaldo?  Did Maria send you?”

“No ma’am,” he answers.  “I was taking care of other business and I need a change of clothes.  If it’s not too much bother.”

She nods, “Go on upstairs.  Your room is the same as the last time you were here.  I can pour my own tea.  I was just going to make a little breakfast for the boys out there.  You can stay and have some eggs and pancakes and sausage.”

Oswald lights up, “That sounds delicious, ma’am.  I’ll just hurry up then.”

Ed nods to Grandma Moon but she gives him a serious side-eye while handling a knife that has him scurrying after Oswald up the stairs.  “What was that!  Who is she!”

“That is one lesson I should have taken to heart,” says Oswald.  He lets them into a small room that more like a refitted closet.  The only furniture is a small twin bed and dresser and Oswald hurries to it and starts changing.  “When I first started working with Fish and she carried me around everywhere, Grandma Moon came to the club a handful of times.  Fish knew all about my mother and told me once I should tell her the truth so she could protect herself.  Then she started bringing me up here.  Once every couple of months for Sunday dinner.  Her grandmother has guards and her own security team.  And every once and a while someone targets her.  But it’s not a problem to Fish, and do you know why?”

“She’s very well guarded?”

Oswald laughs, “That cute, little old woman is a former assassin.  She told me so one morning over poached eggs.  She used to work for some kind of shadowy league of assassins.  She said she’s found more creative ways to kill a man than anyone.  She holds a record and everything.” 

Ed sits on the little bed sighs.  “Only in Gotham,” he shakes his head at the thought.  “Do you think we’ll be like that?  Doting old granddads who hold murder records?”

Oswald doesn’t answer as he puts his clothes on.  The fit is a little tight around the shoulders and in the middle.  Ed’s surprised, he must of have been even smaller a few years ago.

“I think Fish is up to something,” says Ed in the stretched silence.

Oswald starts laughing.  “AH, DUH!”

“Well don’t you want to find out?”

“I’m up to enough things at the moment.  I’ll deal with her later.  But for now, I must get back to Gotham and check on how things are progressing.  Our little detour disrupted some of my plans.  I should check in with Ivy.  We’ll… we’ll call around about getting you that help when I have time.  Someone we can trust not to use it against us or to be bought by our enemies.”

“Really?”

“Really, really.  Now.”  Oswald flaps his hands, “How do I look?”

Ed smiles, “Like a penguin.”

* * *

 

Ed’s surprised that their return to Gotham is so quiet.  Ed falls asleep on the ride to Ivy’s place.

He wakes up alone in the car with Bridgit standing outside the door, “You talk in your sleep.  You sound weird like you’re talking to yourself.  Who the hell is Kristen?”

Ed gets up, annoyed there’s a crick in his neck.  “Get lost, firebug.”  She’s dressed casually like she was going to the mall, “I take it you have a date with a soda fountain somewhere.”

She shrugs, “That’s not a bad idea.  I’ll take Victor to the lounge.  He loves those frosty things with the umbrellas.”  She bops off not paying Ed any more attention.

Ed walks into the house and wonders if he should go looking for Oswald or put himself to bed.  Before he can decide he’s blocked by Ivy and Selina.

“Ladies.  What do you want?”

“We need your help,” says Selina.  “This weird smiling kid—”

“He’s so cute!”

“Shut up, Ivy.  This kid showed up at the Sirens.  He wants us to help start a gang war.  Tabs is just going with it ‘cause it’s her nephew or something.  I need the dish.  How much trouble are we going to be in for poking that kind fire?”

“None,” says Ed.  “Go on little urchins and burn things down with our blessing.  We’re fine with it.  Stay off of Falcone’s turf and have a happy.”  He pats them both on the shoulder and moves past them, heading for Oswald’s room.  Oswald could have told them as much if he were here.

The room seems empty at first glance but Ed notices the bathroom door is open.  And like so long ago, he finds himself standing in the doorway watching Oswald’s reflection in the bath.  Ed sighs and moves into the room.  “I just saw Cat and Ivy.”

“I told them to bother you, I’m too tired.”

“And they want to follow Galavan up.  I gave them my blessing.”

“Mazel tov.”

“Are we not talking at all about what happened?  I have to say something.  I can’t apologize enough for my actions… and I don’t even know how many times I violated you…”

“I do.”  Oswald looks up at him with sad eyes, “Just the once really.  And it broke my heart.  The arm-twisting and finger bending and threats where tolerable.  I have a high threshold for pain if you haven’t noticed.  But that night he- you used me.  That was unbearable.  I was ready to crack apart and then you went missing.  Kidnapping yourself.”  He starts to pour himself a drink but Ed bends down and takes the glass away.

“I wish you wouldn’t drink so much.  It’d be easier to tell how you’d felt.”  He sits on the edge of the tub and reaches in, rubbing Oswald’s knee.  “Is this okay?”

Oswald closes his eyes and sighs.  “Mm-hm.  Go any higher and I’ll break your hand.”

“So noted.”  He’s content just trailing his fingers down Oswald’s leg and back up to his knee, rubbing and kneading the perpetually inflamed joint.  “You said he pretended to be me and it was your first time with anyone.  Is that true?”

“Why would I lie about being a thirty-one old virgin, Ed?”

“Also noted,” says Ed with a sad smile.  “I had a similar experience with Ms. Kringle.  Dating her and finally having her only to have the whole thing, dashed away.  Thrown back in my face.”

Oswald laughs.  It more of a chortle, mean sounding and guttural, “You murdered your girlfriend after your first time because you admitted to killing her boyfriend and she, big DUH HERE, freaked out.”  He looks up at the ceiling and dips his leg in the water where Ed can’t reach.  “Don’t compare that to what you did to me.  You deliberately mislead me to make it hurt more in the morning when you went missing.  I held out on every torrid opportunity that presented itself to me for years, afraid of being laughed at and ridiculed.  And it happened anyway, because of you.  It’s not fair that you took something so important to me and don’t even remember doing it!”  Oswald sits up sneers at him, “And then you did it all over again, pretending to be Didi.”

“That was not my intention!”

“Bullshit!”  Oswald splashes him with the bathwater.  “Whatever your intentions were, what did you think you were doing?  Pretending to be someone else to get what you wanted from me?  It’s the same thing.  I hate that I let it happened!  Not once, but twice!  I let you twist me up into a needy, vulnerable creature desperate to be seen and held by someone.  I don’t want let that happen again.  I rather see you gone.  We’ll get you some help for this… condition.  But I can’t keep you close to me.  You make me too vulnerable.  And it hurts too much.”

“Like daggers in your heart?”

“Shut up!”

“No, I understand.  I feel the same way about you.  I think the reason I was so split about you, even from the very beginning was that I knew.  I know now, how much you mean to mean.  I was afraid of letting myself fall again.  It was too quick with Isabella.  I know that now.  It was transference or convenience.  Without her, I don’t know how far my obsession with you would have gone.”  Ed stands up and paces in front the tub.  “And you're sending me away under the assumption that we’ll move on and just forget this?  How?  I admit it, Oswald.”   He kneels in front again.  “I love you.  And I don’t want anyone else.  And I know you love me.  And I’m sorry we’re always hurting each other.  But that was the last piece of the puzzle, wasn’t it?  I know what’s really wrong and I can endeavor to fix it.  Just please, say you’ll wait for me.”

Oswald looks unconvinced.  “I’m not promising you anything, Ed.  I don’t owe you anything.”

“No, but…”

“But nothing.  Get out of my bathroom.  I want to be alone for a while.”  He wipes his eyes and Ed gets up slowly.

“Okay.  But I’ll be back.”  He bends down to kiss the top of Oswald’s head and strokes his neck, “I’ll be back and I’ll be worthy to claim what owed to me.”

Oswald gives him the same unimpressed look he’s seen on Fish, “Really?  Well, you’ll have to really impress me to get through the door again, Nygma.  Goodbye.”

* * *

 

In the following months, Ed kept his head down, acting as a free agent for multiple parties and collecting things for his own amusement.  Sightings of a guy dressed in black who stopped muggers were quietly shaking up the lower echelons.  Ed was tasked to ease some of the gang leaders’ stress.  It was almost too easy so Ed outsourced it to Ling and her crew. 

While he juggled his interests, he kept track of who was doing what and why and how all of it pertained to one Oswald Copplepot.  He silently nipped any attempts on Oswald in the bud while bolstering anything in the Penguin’s interest.

On every other Wednesday, he drives just out of town to consult Dr. Hunter Meridian.  He’s prescribed medicine that he faithfully takes every day first thing in the morning.  He keeps his briefings with the doctor as vague as possible.  But admitting some things is helpful, it gives Ed a whole new perspective on villainy.  The good doctor would frown on it, but he’s paid very well to keep those feelings to himself.  Ed doesn’t have to one up anyone or stay two steps ahead or prove he did all his math, all he has to do enjoy himself.

And he’s busy doing exactly that, while slow walking a mouse through a maze.  The acting mayor is going straight for the center, running while Ed takes his time, tying a mask around his face then swinging his cane.  He stops just in front of the sniveling man.  “Well, that was fun.  Done exerting yourself yet?”

“I know you!  You won’t get away with this.”

“You’d be surprised how often I hear that.”  Ed swings his cane and steps forward.  The mayor steps back, panicking and falls into the trap.  Thousands of volts of electricity fry him from the exposed wiring on the floor.  Ed sighs.  “And that’s done.”

He waves at the camera in the corner of the room, imagining Harvey’s reaction in the morning and walks out, smiling.  Knowing he’s helped ruin a massive plot to edge Oswald out of Gotham.

He’s on his way home when a car pulls in front of his, forcing him to pull over.  Ed recognizes one of Oswald’s drivers and complies instead of ramming forward.  He gets out of his own car and walks over.  The driver holds open the door so he can join Oswald in the backseat. 

Oswald sits across from him in the center of the second seat, dark kohl around his eyes and feathery coat framing his face.  He grins at Ed.  “Bravo.  Jim’s come to me twice in twelve hours looking for you.  You’ve been busy.”

“That I have.  You look positively delightful,” says Ed.  He wants to gush about his progress and how much he’s missed Oswald.  But there’s a knock on the glass behind him.  Ed rolls his eyes when the partition glides down and Victor Zsasz grins at him from the passenger seat.  “Oh, for goodness sake.  If you want to me go somewhere, you could just ask.”

Oswald tips his head, “But this is way more fun.”

Victor reaches over with a cattle prod and this time Ed feels every bit of the undiluted shock and passes out to the sight of Oswald smirking down at him.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited 4-15-18

The light tingling sound of someone idly playing a piano, no real notes or song, just back and forth, with light taps, wakes Ed out of a deep and aching slumber.  He’s laying on the ground, in the dirt.  The room Ed recognizes from Ivy’s house, as no else decorates with free soil and moss.  He sighs and sits up, brushing greenery off his jacket.  “That was uncalled for.”

Oswald shrugs while he stays bent over the keyboard, “Perhaps.  But Victor insisted.”

“Of course, he did,” says Ed through his teeth.  He walks over to the bench and sits down, one leg on either side and gets a good look at Oswald.  His skin is clear, his eyes bright, and eyeliner from earlier has been washed off.  He’s stripped down to his vest and rolled up his sleeves.  He looks strong and healthy, just sitting there with his inky head bowed.  Ed resists the urge to pull him close and kiss him senseless.  “So what can I do for you, Mr. Penguin, Sir.”  Saying it is a little thrilling this time.  He doesn’t feel weaker for it, just waiting for orders.  Any interaction with Oswald is treasured at this point.

Oswald turns to him.  “I need to hire your services.  You know how the families still show Don Falcone respect, stay out of his territories, respect his rules, that sort of thing.”

“Ruling without a throne.”

“Yeah, well despite our seemingly even-keeled relationship, his daughter has been trying to undermine me lately.  I have a reliable source that says she’s been interrupting some of my more fruitful transactions, and that just can’t stand.  The little bitch is getting too brazen and Falcone is not going to say a word about.  I’ll have to deal with her myself.”

“And what does Fish think?”

“Fish likes her, but she’s very busy with the groundwork of her new project in Metropolis.  She’s here, she’s there.  She’s everywhere.”  Oswald throws up his hand, “And I can’t send someone of mine, it’ll be traced back to me.

“And you can’t send Zsasz…”

“He likes her too.  He said it's like having a murderous little sister.  I can relate to that.”  He smirks, and Ed is just wondering where Ivy is when he hears a man screaming from outside.  It's not a problem apparently, Oswald smiles and stands up, “Say you’ll do this for me.”  He unbuttons his vest and shoves his hands in his pockets while he stares Ed down.  If one didn’t know any better he’d look tall.

Ed follows him, a part of him is sure Oswald is flirting with him, “Absolutely.”

Oswald turns away, “Great.  Goodnight then, Ed.  I have some other business to see about.”

Ed blocks him but is careful not to lay a finger on Oswald.  “Wait, we haven’t discussed payment.”

Oswald sighs and rolls his eyes, “Fine.  Whatever your usual rates, consider it done.”

“I don’t want money,” says Ed breathlessly.  He smiles down at Oswald.  “Dinner.  Chez Moi.  My place.”

“No.  I’m not going anywhere with you alone.”

“Fine,” Ed recovers, “Ice cream.  All the ice cream I can eat at the lounge.”  He hasn’t stepped foot in the place since they parted ways.  “And a kiss.”

Oswald scoffs, “Ice cream, yes.  But a kiss?  Really just the one?  Here or there?”

Ed knocks his own head, “Damn it!  Clearly, I didn’t think that through.  Two kisses.”

“No.”

“Fine one kiss, tomorrow night.”

“Done,” says Oswald while blushing.  He pulls away before Ed can lean in and steal one.  “Goodnight Mr. Nygma.  And don’t mess anything up.  Or I’ll disavow any knowledge of this transaction.”

Ed leaves the mansion to the sing-song sound of someone screaming between loud whip cracks in Ivy’s greenhouse.  He hums to himself and dances his way out, sliding in the rain-slick driveway to a car waiting for him, smiling all the while.

* * *

 

The next afternoon, it’s easy to find and follow up on one of Oswald’s payoffs and the cartoonish goon that robs the agents acting for both parties.  Ed follows the man into a garage and taps him on the shoulder.  “Pardon moi,” he says acting like a hokey tourist, map and all.  “Which way to the G _oa_ t-ham Museum?”

The man shrugs and turns away.  Ed taps him again, and this time strikes him across the face with the cane.  Before the man can draw his weapon, Ed shoves the end of his cane in the man’s eye.  And when he’s down, Ed jams the socket repeatedly with the dull end of the stick.  Twists and turns it like he’s churning butter until he’s satisfied the goon is not getting back up.  He tosses the map on the man’s bloodied face and walks away whistling.  He has a date to get ready for.

* * *

 

The Iceberg Lounge is crawling with miscreants.  Kids and teenagers are everywhere, and there’s a sign outside saying, ‘Free Ice Cream all Nite!  Inquire Inside!’  Ed smirks at it and walks by the punk rock wannabe bouncer guarding the door.

He finds Oswald at the center of the noise and dressed like an old-timey soda jerk.  “One tutty fruity delight!”  He slides a bowl down to a group of kids at the end of the bar.  He grins from ear to ear when Ed approaches.  “You’re a little tall for the free stuff.  But I’ll allow it.  Just this once.”  He turns away and Ed sees he’s pulled out a container of his favorite double cookie dough ice cream. 

“Kids night in a notorious criminal setting?”

Oswald shrugs, “More than half of them are thieves, cons, and runaways.  It was Ivy’s idea.”  He points up to where she’s up in the VIP booth.

Ed’s jaw drops when he identifies the rest of her company.  “Is that Bruce Wayne?”  He turns around and Oswald is finishing off his dish, spraying whip cream and topping it with a cherry before passing it over.  Ed takes a bite and looks back up.  Ivy is indeed hosting something up there, with Selina giggling in a dress and young Alex Galavan saying something that has stoic Brucey cracking up.  “Huh,” says Ed.  His sources about them really need an update.

He turns back to Oswald just as he’s taking off his pointed hat and smock, handing things over to a tall red-headed kid.  “Come on, you haven’t seen the pool.”

Ed follows to the back where the pool was supposed to be staged, but its frozen over and the kids are skating and screaming and dancing to rock music.  Victor Fries looks out of place in full armor sitting nearby with his freeze gun, “No running over there!  It’s too slick!”  He shouts like a soccer mom and sips a milkshake before turning to Oswald and Ed, “I can’t find skates in my size.  That’s just unfair.  It's my ice.”

Oswald nods, “Ask Ivy.  She knows where everything is and I’m sure she ordered some.”

Victor eyes Ed with distrust, “What’s he doing here?  I thought you worked him out of your system?”

Oswald bends down kisses him on the side of the head, “Don’t worry.  You’re still my favorite.  I’m just exploring a working a relationship with an old friend.” 

Victor doesn’t look convinced and Ed can’t help sticking out his tongue as they walk past him to the elevator.  The apartment upstairs has been done over yet again and looks more flamboyant.  Like a peacock’s personal study full of books and an exhaustive liquor collection.  There’s a long mirror and some green dress fabric out in the living room, sketches on the coffee table.  Ed looks them over while Oswald moves to the kitchen.  “Did you draw these?  They’re lovely!”  Ivy is obviously the model and muse for the little project.

“They’re not all mine.  I’m showing Ivy the finer points of good tailoring.  She’s a fast learner.”

Indeed, thinks Ed noticing the difference in style.  But they’re all very good, in his opinion.  Oswald’s even drawn a few portraits.  Ivy’s face in charcoal, Selina’s silhouette.   And then there’s the city line outside and a question mark.  Ed smiles down at it all and tries to look unaffected when Oswald returns with two drinks.  “Unless you want to finish that ice cream.”

Ed shakes his head, “I shouldn’t mix alcohol with my medication.  I’m fine with this.”  He takes a noisy slurp of his ice cream and they both laugh.  “Well.  I dealt with your leech.”

“I see that,” says Oswald.  “The police reported a man found with his eye dug out.”

“More or less.”

“Nice,” nods Oswald.  He sits down on the sofa and sips his drink with his legs spread wide.

Ed feels as nervous as he did on his first date and sits down on the opposite side, giving Oswald plenty of room.  “So, do you plan on confronting Falcone’s kid directly?”

“No, I’m letting someone else deal with it at the moment.  Do you have any news about the vigilante?  He knocked off a robbery that would have cost one of my silent partners a great deal.  I kind of owe him one.”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up in time.  I’m more worried about Jerome escaping Arkham with that candy stripper.  Or pin-up shrink.  Whatever she is.”

Oswald rolls his eyes, “Don’t worry, Jim is very concerned about that young doctor’s welfare.  She’s some Doogie Howser psych prodigy and they are all atwitter about losing an upstanding young citizen to a psychopath.”  He rolls his eyes, “They’ve already questioned me to death about it.  As if I care where some lunatic is hiding.”

Ed sees right through that, “You know exactly where they are, don’t you?”

Oswald giggles and snorts into his drink, “Yes!  Of course, I do!  They’re with Mad Jeri.  She’s great.  She’s playing at the club later this week.  She has a knack for inciting a riot that is just,” he kisses his fingertips and smiles.  “She’s to die for, really.  I can’t wait.”

The small talk peters out and Ed can’t blame himself for hyper-focusing on the puckered lips and the little smacking sound.  He clears his throat, “And there’s the matter of that kiss you owe me.”

“Let’s rephrase that, shall we?”

“Please, may I have a kiss, Oswald?  Mr. Penguin, sir?”

“Well, since you asked—oh!”  Oswald leaps up before Ed can fall on him.  He laughs and sets his glass down.  “You’re ridiculous.”

Ed’s face down on the cushions looking up at him, “I know.  But I love you.”

Oswald bends and turns Ed over to his back and straddles Ed’s legs, with his bad leg stretched out to the floor.  “Yeah, don’t think I won’t throw you out anyway.  Saying you love me is not a precursor to treating me right, is it?”

“No,” says Ed sadly.  He sits up cradles Oswald’s head with his hands.  “But I really want that kiss now.  What exactly constitutes one kiss anyway?” He grins.  “One breath, one touch of lips?”

“One kiss is one kiss,” says Oswald.  “And anything more is on credit.  You’ll owe me.  I’ll put it on the books and everything.”

“Oh,” says Ed.  He feels something in chest get lighter and feels giddy leaning in, “I’m happy to incur that debt.”  The first kiss is soft and sweet, Ed’s thumbs just under Oswald’s ears and holding him still while he kisses him chastely.   The second kiss is deeper, and the third deeper still, Oswald holding onto Ed’s shoulder while sitting in his lap and licking into his mouth, sucking on his tongue.  They grind their hips together until the friction is too much and Ed starts tearing at Oswald’s clothes.  Pulling his shirt tails up and sighing when his hands meet bare skin, fingers wrapping around Oswald’s waist.

Oswald kisses him through it, pulls away a moment to slide off Ed’s glasses and sit them on the coffee table before rocking in Ed’s lap and undoing the top buttons of his shirt.  Ed gasps and Oswald takes the opportunity to kiss him again.  Ed’s head falls back with Oswald moving above him, grinding down and pulling his hair and kissing any skin he can get too.  Ed hasn’t had a drink in months, but he feels drunk.  He lets Oswald take the wheel, controlling the pace.  Everything steady and easy.  And Ed is so happy he could cry.

Oswald pulls away, his hand shaking.  He gets up with a hand low over Ed's belly, “No, no, no, get up.”

“What?” Ed starts to panic, “What I’d do?  I’m sorry…”

“No! Just not in here on this couch.  I just bought this couch.”  He takes a deep breath and shakes his head, then grabs Ed by the wrist, “Bedroom.  Now.”

Ed gets up and follows, grinning ear to ear, and shuts the door with a slam.  Then he locks it, “Just in case your nosy kids come upstairs,” he follows Oswald to the bed and stands between his legs.  “I have thought of little more than being with you.  I missed you so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this has been fun to write! Working up to a happy ending before Season 4 and starts depress the fuck out of me :P
> 
> *edited 4-15-18  
> WELL  
> Season 4 went ahead and depressed the fuck out of me anyway, but soon I'll post the last two chapters with a few tweaks made since all that happened. Thank you for reading! ^_^

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